Beneath It All
by Laelyn24
Summary: Looking like a boy would not be a problem, but acting like one might be. She had no idea what she was getting herself into, or how much it would change her life.
1. Tug

_Disclaimer__: I do not own anything from Newsies as it is portrayed in the 1992 Disney film._ _In addition, I do not own the tv series Young Riders from which a couple scenes were inspired._

_A/N: This is my first Newsies fic. I had the idea in my head, and couldn't rid of it so I had to write it . I know the general idea has been done many times over, but this is my take on the classic newsgirl story._

* * *

Chapter 1: Tug

She stood, staring at her reflection in the mirror, watching the tears roll in steady streams down her cheeks. The pair of scissors she had gripped tightly in one hand, caught the flickering candle light and gleamed angrily, like they didn't approve of what she was about to do. But, her mind was already made up. This was something she had to do. Closing her eyes, she drew in a deep breath of confidence and brought the sheers to her head. When she opened them again, a long lock of her dark hair laid abandoned at her feet. It almost made her sick to see it there, but she pressed on and more strands followed until the floor around her was hidden beneath a thick layer of hair.

Wiping her damp face with the back of her hand, she crouched down, gathered her severed beauty, and dropped it into the trash bin. Straightening back up, she took another look at herself in the mirror, scrutinizing her new look. More tears filled her eyes and spilled onto the floor as she tugged on one of the shortened locks, certain of one thing: looking like a boy would not be a problem, but acting like one might be.

---

The square located in front of the New York World newspaper distribution center was teeming with newsboys, the following morning, just as it was every morning. The boys were scattered around waiting for the circulation bell to ring and the gates to swing open so that they could buy a stack of newspapers to sell for a profit.

She was there, unnoticed amongst them, leaning against the base of the statue of Horace Greeley, which stood in the middle of the square. As she waited, she observed the boys around her, noting their behavior, hoping to pick up on some useful mannerisms that might help to mask her girlish demeanor.

Beyond the brick walls that enclosed the distribution center a bell clanged loudly, signalling that it was time to circulate the newspapers. The heavy iron gates were pulled apart to allow the stampede of boys inside. The veteran newsboys were restless and itching to get started; they pushed and jostled one another, jockeying for a decent position in the long line.

She held her own among the boys, keeping her place as the line slowly moved up the incline toward the little window where their coins were exchanged for newspapers. New to this business, she watched the other boys, trying to learn the routine through her observations, but there didn't seem to be one. Some of the boys took their newspapers and left the establishment immediately while others lingered inside, perusing the articles or waiting for friends.

Her heart started to hammer against her chest as she neared the barred window. When she was next in line, her nerves kicked in full-throttle. She was almost certain that the greasy man behind the counter would hear the pounding of her heart or see through her disguise. Swallowing those nerves, she stepped up to the window, pushed her money under the bars, and asked for forty newspapers. A short stack was shoved out to her so quickly that the clerk hardly gave her a glance before ordering the next boy forward.

Without hesitating, she scooped up her bundle and hurried down the stairs toward the street. It was a relief to have gotten this far, but the real test would be fooling the people on the streets.

"Hey!" a sharp voice called out over the other noise. "Hey, kid!"

She assumed he was calling someone else, but turned around just to be sure. There were a few boys perched on the edge of the platform, most browsing the paper. A boy with a cigar stuck between his fingers was looking straight at her. When he caught her gaze, he beckoned to her; shifting her newspapers around, she took a few tentative steps forward, wishing she hadn't turned around.

"I don't recall ever seein' you 'round here before," the cigar boy said while his friend watched on with interest. "This yer first day?"

"Yeah," she replied gruffly, using the low tone she had practiced, and then turned to leave; it wasn't any of his business anyway. She didn't make it far, because the cigar boy hopped from the platform and grabbed her shoulder.

"Whoa, hold it there a minute. I ain't finished," he said, spinning her back around and giving her the once over. "Ya gotta name?"

Shifting uneasily, she pulled the brim of her hat down to shade her eyes and mumbled, "Clarence."

The boy's eyebrows rose as he casually puffed on his cigar.

"That's quite a fancy name ya got there, Clarence," he replied snidely. His friends behind him chuckled.

Rolling her eyes, she stared at him pointedly, waiting for some kind of explain as to why he had stopped her.

"Look here, Clarence. You ain't gonna make it in this business with a name like that." He turned to the other boys and motioned one of them forward. A blond boy wearing an eye patch over his left eye stepped forward; the one with the cigar clapped him on the back before turning back to her. "This here is Kid Blink. He's gonna give ya a new name - something that ain't so hoity-toity."

She held her breath while the boy called Kid Blink walked circles around her, surveying her closely while he calculated the perfect nickname. After a few second went by without any developments, her nerves started to kick in again. What if he saw through her disguise? She reached up and jiggled the brim of her hat, hoping to hide more of her face. Suddenly, Kid Blink snapped his fingers conclusively and smiled.

"I got it!" he declared happily and draped an arm over her shoulder. He turned to the others and introduced her with his selection. "Fellas, this here is Tug - the newest newsie."

It took every ounce of will-power she could muster to keep her nose from crinkling with disgust. Tug? Really? Was that the best he could come up with? But when the other boys hurried forward to clap her on the back and welcome her to the Manhattan newsies, she knew her fate had been sealed.


	2. Money

Chapter 2: Money

Life in New York City - the most populated city in the United States - was unlike life in any other place; every type of person imaginable, it seemed, lived within the city limits. No matter the time of day, the streets were always crowded and buzzing with activity because everyone had somewhere to go or some place to be; New York City offered something for everybody.

The fancy businessmen in their perfectly pressed suits walked stiffly through the streets on their way to work in offices set high above the city in the tallest buildings. They would pass by the blue-collar factory workers, who trudged along for another day of back-breaking labor and little wages on the assembly lines. Both had one thing in common; they worked hard in order to provide for their families.

Women, who had not joined the workforce, were often accompanied by a passel of screaming children as they scurried along from shop to shop, running errands to maintain their households. Those women who were born into New York's wealthier ring of families took to the shops as well, frivolously spending their family fortune on fine dresses and jewelry.

When not in school or under the watchful eye of their parents, children added to the pollution of noise on the streets and in the parks - much to the irritation of the older generation - where they played their lively games and occupied themselves with whatever means they could find.

It was this congested lifestyle, this constant stream of people flowing through the streets, that the newsies thrived on. It kept them in business.

---

"Extra! Extra! Trolley workers set to go on strike! Read all about it!"

Tug's voice rang out, shouting about the bolded headline which graced the front pages of the newspapers she was holding. Most people just passed by casting half-interested looks her way, not bothering to stop. When they did stop, drawn by their curiosity, she would exchange a newspaper for one penny, sometimes more if the person was feeling charitable. The coins that she collected were nestled safely in the pockets of her trousers.

It had taken a few days, but she had finally found a decent place to sell. Under normal circumstances it would have been quite dangerous for her to be standing on a corner near a pub, but dressed as a newsboy no one paid her any particular attention aside from when they made a purchase.

All morning long, Tug could feel beads of sweat roll disgustingly down her back as the sun beat down on the unprotected street corners. By midday, she was in desperate need of some water, having nearly shouted herself hoarse. With only one newspaper left, she abandoned her post and joined the throng of people headed toward Herald Square. For a couple of blocks, Tug followed behind a tall, well-dressed lady and found herself lost in admiration for the woman's fine attire. Caught up in a daydream of living such a fancy life, Tug was knocked back to reality when she heard her name being yelled distantly behind her.

"Tug! Hey, Tug! Wait up!"

Before turning toward the voice, Tug cringed at the sound of her given nickname; she still did not have a handle on it. While most of the other newsies had nicknames that suited their personalities and style, Tug wasn't entirely convinced that hers did the same.

Jack Kelly - the leader of the Manhattan newsies - was also known as Cowboy, because he had dreams of living out west and sported a cowboy hat to prove it. Racetrack was the first newsie that Tug had met - the one smoking the cigar on her first day - his name was very fitting because he gambled away his earnings at the racetracks. Another one of the boys, they called him Crutchy, had a bad leg and used a crutch to get around; the nickname just seemed logical. There were a few nicknames that didn't quite lend themselves to obvious explanations, like Snipeshooter and Bumlets. It wasn't until she had been warned to keep a count on any cigars she might have, because the kid would smoke a half used one he had found on the street if he was desperate enough. Bumlets, on the other hand, was still a complete mystery.

The boy darting through the crowd towards her was called Mush, because he was a hopeless romantic, known for making the girls swoon. He was one of the few boys that Tug was particularly leery of, because if he was such a ladies' man he was bound to figured her out soon or later. She gave him a pleasant smile when he reached her side and adjusted her hat so that it sat low over her eyes.

"Ya goin' to Tibby's?" he asked. It just happened that they were walking in that direction.

She gave a shrug of her shoulders, glancing sideways at him.

"You ain't hungry?"

"I dunno. I thought about pickin' something up," she replied indecisively.

He eyeballed the single newspaper in her hand, pointing to it. "Ya still got a pape."

"Yeah," she agreed plainly. "Figured I'd sell it on the way."

Suddenly, Mush snatched it from her hand and shouted, "Trolley union strike begins! Read all about it!"

"Hey!" she squealed instinctively, reaching for the paper as he held it high above his head. Quickly, clearing her throat, she deepened her tone again and said, "Come on, give it back!"

"Hey kid, I'll take that one," a large man offered, waddling up to the pair of newsies. He held out a shiny copper penny and exchanged it with Mush, who then flipped the coin to Tug.

She caught it against her chest and blinked. "Uh, thanks."

"No problem," he replied, already back on the move. "Now, you comin' or what?"

Nodding, she slipped the coin into her pocket and hurried after him.

---

She followed him to a little corner diner called Tibby's. It was one of the newsies' favorite places for a bite to eat - when they could afford it. Some of the boys were already stuffing their faces when the two of them walked in. They were greeted by smiles and a few muffled hellos which resulted in some food residue being sprayed about. Holding back her revulsion, Tug muttered her greeting to the others and pulled up a chair to join them.

After a while of listening to them talk, Tug lost interest in the conversation and let her mind wander far away from the small diner, to some place where she could live a life without all the constant worry that was her life now. She was shakening from her daydream by the sound of her name.

"How much d'ya bring in, Tug?" Snipeshooter asked offhandedly. Apparently they had been talking about the day's earnings.

She blinked back to the table with all the newsboys.

"What?"

"How much d'ya make today?"

"Enough," she grumbled, pushing her empty plate to the middle of the table. She hated talking about the money. There never really seemed to be enough of it, but somehow she would find a way to get by with what she had. Tug slouched back in the chair, reminding herself not to cross her legs, and stuffed her hands into her pockets so she could feel the pool of coins between her fingers.

"We're gonna have a friendly poker game tonight," Racetrack offered with a sly little grin. "It'll be at the lodge, if yer interested?"

Tug shook her head. "Nah, I'll pass. I ain't much of a card player."

"Neither is Blink, but he still plays," Racetrack said with a laugh; some of the other boys chuckled too.

Grinning, Jack added, "If ya change yer mind, nine o'clock. Newsboys Lodging House over on Duane Street."

"Hey, Tug? We was all wondering," Boots said suddenly; instinctively, Tug's stomach tightened nervously. "D'ya got a place somewhere 'round here or something? 'Cause we noticed you ain't bunkin' at the lodging house.

Curious faces had turned toward her after he asked; all eyes focused on her. Relieved that it was nothing more, Tug exhaled quietly through her nose before answering.

"Yeah. It ain't too far from here," she replied vaguely; the last thing she needed was for one of them to show up unexpectedly. It would be safer for her to keep a distance between them until they were used to one another and she was certain that they completely believed her charade. Making that her cue to leave, Tug stood. "Actually, I gotta get goin'. I'll see ya fellas tomorrow."

"See ya, Tug," replied a few voices as she pushed open the door. After she had gone, the boys put their heads back together and finished planning the rest of their evening's entertainment.

Back outside in the afternoon sun, Tug walked slowly across the square; she wasn't quite ready to go home. Taking the longer route, she strolled by some of the shops and glanced at the various displays in the windows. In one window, which had caught her interest, a frilly pink dress was on display. Tug stopped and stared longingly through the thin pane of glass; it would take a lot of money to afford something so beautiful. Catching sight of her own reflecting - hardly recognizing herself - she hung her head in embarrassment, turned on her heel, and hurried away.

After delaying her return for as long as possible, Tug's feet carried her to the tenement building that she called home. Stopping just outside the front entrance, she looked up to her level and inhaled, filling her lungs with the fresh summer air. As she did this her hands fell against her legs, making the coins inside her pockets to jingle. Hearing that sound was all it took to remind her that she had made the right choice and that it was the best way for her to make a living right now.


	3. Handsome

Chapter 3: Handsome

"Look, just come with us. Medda always puts on a good show, right boys?" Racetrack said. He had a huge grin plastered across his face as he elbowed Blink in the side.

Blink and a few of the other boys nodded their agreement enthusiastically, swooning over the woman who owned the old vaudeville theater. They had talked of nothing but their plans to see the show since the start of lunch; Tug had to clamp her tongue between her teeth to keep from laughing at their lovestruck expressions.

"She's the prettiest lady ya ever saw," Jack added with a grin, leaning back casually in his chair.

"So, what d'ya say, Tug? You comin' or what?" Blink asked.

Tug looked around at all the anxious faces, keeping them in suspension for just a little longer while she made up her mind. Over the past two weeks, she had been declining their invitations to various activities, but it seemed that suspicion was beginning to arise; the boys had started sharing looks with one another when she turned them down. It was obvious that there was speculation behind the reason for her disappearance at the end of the day - and for Tug, it was becoming more difficult to come up with the excuses. She was, however, confident that they believed her guise as a boy, though it remained a constant struggle to control her girlish impulses.

Flashing them half a smile, Tug sighed loudly, and banged her hands down in an act of defeat. "Fine! I'll go. I've gotta see what all this fuss is about."

There was a small cheer from the table.

"You ain't gonna be disappointed," Jack assured her with a whimsical smile.

---

The lights on the marquee over Irving Hall, with their alluring yellow glow, flooded the street below, beckoning to those looking for an evening of entertainment. Never having been inside of a theater before, Tug let her eyes wander, taking in every inch of the beautiful architecture and the decorative artifacts that ornamented the old building's interior. A couple of times the boys had to backtrack and collect her after she had stopped to admire something more closely.

Their seats were in the balcony, providing an excellent view of the whole auditorium, particularly the stage. Settling in between the invading elbows of Racetrack and Mush, Tug admired the elegant room while she anxiously waited for the show to begin.

It wasn't long before the lights dimmed, the thick red curtains swept apart, and the spotlight zeroed in on center stage where Medda Larkson stood, beaming at her audience. The newsboys added shouts and whistles to the rumble of applause to show their admiration for the leading lady. Out of the corner of her eye, Tug caught sight of Racetrack dramatically clutching at his heart with one hand while the other waved his cap over his head.

Tug raised an amused eyebrow. This was the lady that had caused all the newsboys to swoon? Not that Medda wasn't beautiful; she most certainly was - it was just that, based on their descriptions and level of infatuation, Tug had expected her to be a bit younger, not old enough to be their mother. But when Medda started singing, Tug immediately understand why they adored her.

Instantly at the sound of her smooth voice the room went silent. The whole audience hung on every word, hardly daring to breathe for fear that they would miss something. Occasionally, Tug would steal a look at all the hypnotic expressions sprawled across the faces of the newsboys; their looks of complete euphoria left her with the tiniest of amused smiles.

At the end of her performance, Medda received a very well-deserved standing ovation. Tug clapped loudly along with the others, but refrained from the cat-calling. Racetrack put his fingers to his lips and let loose a shrill whistle as Medda whisked from the stage.

With the show at its end, Tug was a little surprised to be led backstage where the performers were winding down. The boys carried on about the show, joking and laughing with one another about which parts they enjoyed the most. It wasn't long before Medda bustled over to them, her eyes twinkling at the sight of her favorite group of newsies.

"Boys! Awe, I'm so glad you could make it. Did you enjoy yourselves?"

Lost for words, they all nodded vigorously. Jack jumped forward and gave Medda a quick peck on the cheek, offering his compliments on the show.

"Oh yeah, Medda, this here's Tug. He's yer newest fan," Jack said as he pulled Tug to the front of the group to introduce her.

Medda's face lit up as she gave the brim of Tug's hat a little shake.

"Aren't you just so handsome too," she squealed through her dazzling smile.

"Thanks," Tug mumbled, feeling her cheeks grow hot. Embarrassed and slightly mortified, she cringed at the idea of being called handsome - any girl would; handsome seemed like such a masculine description. And yet, at the same time, it was almost satisfying to know that her look was convincing.

The boys were still chattering about Medda as they spilled out into the street.

"Wasn't she amazin'?"

"Have ya ever seen anyone so beautiful, Tug?"

Tug thrust her hands into her pockets and complied with their consensus.

"You guys was right, prettiest lady I ever seen." She swoon mockingly, but they were so caught up in the moment that they completely missed it.

"Where to now, Jack?" Specs asked after some of the chatter died down.

"I got just the place. Let's go," Jack replied, eyes dancing.

---

Almost immediately, Tug regretted following them.

The place Jack had taken them was crowded, loud, and smelled like a dirty sock. Small clusters of people were scattered around the room, peering over their shoulders at the latest arrivals. In the middle of the room couples were dancing to the music that played from the far corner. The boys seemed familiar with the place and settled right into the scene.

It didn't long for some girl to find their way into the group and start picking off the boys one by one. Thankful that no one had approached her, Tug sank into a chair off to one side and watched the interactions between the newly formed couples. She was joined shortly by Skittery, who flicked his cigarette down in a huff, slumped into the chair next to her, and scowled at the floorboards. Tug was just about to ask him what was wrong when someone touched her arm.

"Hiya, handsome," purred a heavily made-up girl, smiling down at Tug. "Wanna dance?"

Tug felt her face go red for the second time that night. She slid down in the chair as though it might make her invisible and pulled on her cap, trying to think of some way to reply without sounding incredibly rude.

"Uh, I ain't interested. Sorry," she said with a quick smile, hoping she didn't look completely disgusted.

"You ain't interested?" the girl repeated, sounding offended. "What's that supposed to mean?"

In her head, Tug groaned. She hadn't intended to be offensive, but it couldn't be helped. "Look, I just ain't one for dancin', alright?"

The girl scowled and stormed off in a huff, but quickly recovered by leeching onto another victim.

Glancing around nervously, Tug took notice of the bemused expression on Skittery's face. She suddenly realized that she may not have handled that in the appropriate manner, especially in front of one of the boys. There were going to be a lot of questions if the others found out what had just happened. Not wanting to be caught without a decent excuse, Tug rose from the chair.

"Tell the others I left, will ya?" she grumbled at Skittery as she passed. He simply nodded.

Once out on the street, Tug ripped off her hat and whipped it against the ladder of a nearby fire escape. Going out with the newsies had been a huge mistake. She thought she could handle it, but she had been wrong. And unless she could come up with a good reason for her behavior, the truth was likely to come out - that, or they would think she was completely off her rocker.

She was nearing the end of the alley when someone shouted her name. It was Mush; he was jogging towards her. Tug stopped, hoping that something clever would just come to her in the moment if need be.

"I saw ya leave. Where're ya goin'?"

Tucking her hat under one arm, Tug ran her fingers nervously through her hair. "Uh, I just gotta get home."

"Why?" Mush asked, puzzled. "You got someone waitin' for ya?"

"Yeah," she replied instantly, his words sparking an idea. "Yeah, I promised my girl I wouldn't be too late."

It seemed like the perfect excuse to explain a lot of her odd behavior over the last few weeks. Tug only prayed that it sounded convincing.

"Yeah?" Mush encouraged.

"Yeah," she assured him.

"Alright. Well, see ya tomorrow then," he said with an all-knowing grin.

"Yeah, see ya," Tug replied, relieved that her cover had been saved for the time being.

She waited until Mush disappeared back through the door before starting the silent journey home. As she walked a replay of the evening's events ran continuously through her mind. It had been a close call - a little too close. It could not happen again.


	4. Gloria

Chapter 4: Gloria

She was late; the gates would already be open by the time she got there. It meant she would have to wait at the end of the long line, which also meant a late start to the day. Tug sprinted down an alley that led to Herald Square. As she predicted, the newsies were already lined up inside the gate. With the bell clanging from within, she skidded to stop behind the last boy, cursing her slowness this morning.

Breathing heavily, winded from the run, Tug looked around for familiar faces. It was no surprise to see Jack standing at the head of the line, already getting his newspapers and probably giving Weasel a hard time. She continued to watch as Racetrack and Crutchy stepped up to the window and swapped their coins for papers. Then what had started out as a steadily moving line came to a stand still when the boy after Crutchy started arguing with Weasel about the number of newspapers he had received.

Tug groaned; she had never seen a newsy count his papers, but this one was claiming he had been jipped. Rocking on the balls of her feet, she couldn't stop fidgeting. She was antsy and just wanted to get started. Fortunately for everyone waiting, Jack stepped in and sorted it all out; the line started to move again.

From her position in line, Tug kept a watchful eye on her friends as Jack and the others crowded around the new boy. There was something happening between him and Jack, which at times didn't look friendly. Tug strained to hear what was going on, but it was difficult with all the other noise around her. She scowled; it was just her luck to be stuck waiting for her lousy papes when something interesting was going on. Someone would just have to fill her in later.

Nearly to the window, Tug watched as Jack offered the newsies' handshake to the new boy. She chuckled to herself, thinking about the revolted expression that must have crossed his face because he didn't accept Jack's hand and the other boys were laughing. It had to be one of the most disgusting rituals that the newsies had, feeling someone else's saliva in your hand - she wouldn't accepted it either.

"Next!" shouted Weasel, urging the line forward.

Tug stepped up, thankful it was finally her turn.

"Forty papes," she ordered, sliding the money across the counter. Taking the bundle of papers passed out to her, she trudged down the steps.

The boys had gone, though she really hadn't expected any of them to stick around, not when there were newspapers to sell. It was her own fault anyway; she had been late. Still slightly disappointed, she walked back through the gates, glancing down at the headlines on the front page.

"There ya are," said a voice at her side. "I thought ya weren't gonna show."

"I was runnin' late this morning," she explained, grateful that Mush had decided to wait, though she would have met up with him at their usual spot; the pair of them had taken to selling together. Under the impression that Tug had a girlfriend, Mush felt that they shared a common interest: girls. So, he sought her out regularly to talk about his issues with the opposite sex, figuring Tug could relate. His problems were so frequent that he decided to make Tug his regular selling partner so that they could find time to talk when there was a lull in business.

"So...I met this girl last night," he informed her straight away, a dreamy smile lingered over the memory. "We really hit it off, ya know?"

"Ya don't say?" Tug chuckled lightly; this was how his stories away started. "She gotta name? I'm tryin' to keep 'em all straight."

Mush shook his head sadly. "That's just it, I dunno."

Tug sighed; that was usually how his stories ended.

"You spent all night with this girl and ya didn't catch her name?"

"Well, we wasn't doin' much talkin'." Mush grinned and gave her a nudge with his elbow.

It was situations like this that really tested her ability to act like a boy because she couldn't exactly express her true feelings on the subject. What she really felt like doing was taking her roll of newspapers and whacking him across the head with them, but a reaction like that would raise too much suspicion. Instead, she had to pretend to be impressed by his tales, though half the time she felt more exasperated by what he told her.

"Nice," she replied curtly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

"Thing is though, I'd like to see her again," he continued without noticing Tug's short response. "She was beautiful and like I was sayin' we hit it off."

"Well," Tug said, choosing her words carefully when he looked to her for advice. "Gloria's always talkin' about stuff like fate and how things happen for a reason. I mean, maybe ya just gotta hope for somethin' like that."

Gloria was the name that Tug had given her 'girlfriend' when the boys started pestering her about it; she was proving to be useful - most of the time. Tug used Gloria as a way of expressing her own, more girly, thoughts and feelings when she needed an outlet.

"Yeah, I suppose so," Mush agreed distantly. He suddenly snapped back to reality. "Oh, ya missed it, Tug. There was this girl who walked by earlier - gorgeous. D'ya think that fate thing'll work with her?"

Chuckling flatly, Tug thought it best to change the subject. "So, who's the kid Jack was talkin' to?"

"A new guy. His name's David and he's got a kid brother, Les. Jack's made 'em his sellin' partners," Mush replied with a shrug. "You know Jack, always lookin' for a way to make more money."

Tug nodded, looked down at her newspapers to scan the headlines again, and scowled. "We better get started. Looks like we're gonna have to dress it up today; this headline's no good."

Taking that as his cue, Mush raised a single copy over his head and waved it around wildly, shouting, "Brooklyn baby born with three heads!"

"Man loses head during trolley strike," Tug hollered, displaying the front page to those walking by.

---

It was late in the afternoon when they finally sold all of their newspapers. It had been an awful day. Tug hadn't bothered to read the entire newspaper in nearly three days because the stories had been practically the same; people didn't want to read the same dribble that had been printed for the past week. It was tough during dry times like these. The newsies needed something more exciting to happen and then maybe business would pick up.

As the two of them walked toward Tibby's, Tug caught sight of a face she recognized. When they neared she noticed he looked as if he had been crying.

"You alright, Tumbler?" she asked gently, stooping down to his level. It was probably that motherly instinct in her that made her heart melt every time she saw the little newsboy. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, concerned by his emotional display.

"Yeah," he whimpered, trying to hide his tear-stained face.

"What happened, kid?" Mush asked, ready to defend his friend if need be.

Tumbler's eyes fell toward the pavement in shame as he gave the smallest of shrugs and then spilled all of his woes in one breath. "Skittery wouldn't let me sell with him today. I didn't sell many papes 'cause the Delanceys came by and ripped up the ones I had left - they was still sore about not soakin' Jack this mornin'." Tears started to well in his eyes again.

"They're as good as dead," Mush promised, fists clenched at his sides, eyes darting around the square.

"We were just goin' over to Tibby's. You can come if ya want?" Tug suggested with a shrug, hoping the offer would cheer him up a bit. When he nodded, she gave him another reassuring pat on the shoulder and guided him toward the restaurant.

When the trio walked in, they were waved over to where the others had already claimed a table. Tug nudged the hesitant Tumbler, still rubbing the tears from his eyes, forward.

"Hey, I been lookin' everywhere for ya," Skittery said to Tumbler as they neared.

The small boy simply sniffed, wiping his nose with his sleeve, obviously still hurt from being cast aside earlier that day.

Tug quickly rose to his defense, saying flatly, "You could've let him sell with ya today."

"Yeah, he had a run in with Oscar and Morris," Mush added, sliding into a chair.

Growls of utter dislike for the Delanceys echoed around the table.

Skittery, looking furious with himself, turned to Tumbler. "Sorry, kid. You can sell with me tomorrow, alright?" He pulled a chair over so that Tumbler could sit near him.

Tumbler plunked himself into the seat, apparently pleased with the apology and delighted by the prospect of selling with Skittery the next day.

Tug could only think to herself_,_ _Boys!_

Blink pulled over another chair for Tug, motioning for her to sit down.

"Thanks, but I ain't stayin'. It's late and I gotta get home," she explained.

"Oh yeah - to see Gloria," Blink teased. Everyone laughed.

"Shut up!" she snapped, giving Blink a shove. Shaking her head and chuckling, she parted without another word.


	5. Strike

Chapter 5: Strike

Determined not to be late again, Tug left home earlier than usual the following morning. Having those extra minutes to herself, she decided to take the longer, more scenic route to the distribution center so she could look in the store front windows.

As she walked by the bakery, the air smelled of fried dough, making her mouth water. Tug peeked in the window where the owner was arranging displays of delicious looking pastries. Her stomach rumbled, but knowing that she couldn't afford to buy something that wonderful, she whisked away from the temptation. She usually only took enough money to cover the price of the newspapers; feeling the weight of the coins build up in her pockets throughout the day was the motivation she needed to sell.

Stuffing her hands into her pockets, Tug quickened her pace toward the square. A couple of newsboys were already gathered near the gates, but they weren't any that she associated with. Finding a good place to sit, Tug leaned back against the wall to wait. As she sat she thought about the day ahead of her and prayed that Mush had chosen a quiet night with the boys; she wasn't quite in the mood to hear another one of his tales.

Tug didn't realize her eyes had closed until she felt someone kick her sharply in the side. Wincing, she looked up, ready to have it out with whoever had done it. Her furious expression fell faster than a stone in water; gazing down at her were Oscar and Morris Delancey, looking very smug. Hastily she scrambled to her feet, bracing herself against the wall behind her.

"Looks like we caught one of Cowboy's newsies alls by hisself," Oscar sneered delightfully, cracking his knuckles.

Hoping to catch them off guard, Tug tried to wriggle through the gap between them. Unsurprised by her attempt, they shoved her back against the wall and her elbow slid against the brick; she could feel the blood trickle down her arm. Tug had half a thought to give one of them a good kick where it counts, but the appearance of a couple of her boys changed her mind. Instead she pulled back, curled her fingers into a fist and, throwing as much force behind it as she could muster, popped Morris square in the jaw.

This time, caught completely off guard, Morris stumbled backwards. Oscar moved to retaliate on behalf of his brother, but was intercepted as Skittery grabbed him roughly from behind, pulling him away from Tug. Blink, Racetrack, and Mush appeared at her side, giving Oscar a look that dared him to try something. Certain that she was protected, Tug rubbed her sore knuckles, hoping that Morris' face hurt as much as her hand did.

"Nice one, Tug," Blink said once the Delanceys had retreated to safety behind the gates.

"What happened?" Racetrack asked.

Tug gave a shrug and explained, "I dunno. I was just sittin' there. They came over and just kicked me. Said they caught one of Cowboy's newsies by hisself. So, I hit 'em before they could hit me."

She rolled her arm to inspect the damage to her elbow. There wasn't much she would be able to do for it now, so she simply rolled her sleeve down a bit to cover the cut. At least it would soak up some of the blood.

The circulation bell rang and the gates were slowly pulled apart. Tug followed the boys up the ramp, still massaging her hand, but glad to be toward the front of the line today. Blink stepped up to the window and asked for his usual number of papes, setting his money down on the counter.

"That ain't enough," Weasel said, eyeing the coin.

"What d'ya mean?" Blink replied incredulously, staring at the shrewd face beyond the bars. "It's the same amount I give ya every day, Weasel!"

Sniffing arrogantly, pleasure dripping from every word, Weasel retorted, "Mr. Pulitzer has upper yer price. It's now sixty cents for a hundred papes. So either pay up or beat it!"

"What?" Blink said again, this time louder. Whirling around to face the crowd he cried, "I don't believe this!"

At that same moment, Jack had walked through the gates. He cut up toward the front of the line - one of the perks of being the leader.

"They jacked up the price! You hear that Jack?" Blink complained at the top of his voice. "Ten cents a hundred!"

All the newsies started protesting the new price. It might not seem like much to some people, but to the newsies it was quite a blow; they were hardly scraping by as it was. Tug groaned and had to sit down, her legs suddenly unable to support her. The announcement had sent her mind spinning; a lot of things in her life depended on this job.

"Ya know, it's bad enough we gotta eat what we don't sell. Now, they jack up the price! Can you believe that?" Blink ranted on.

"This'll bust me. I'm barely makin' a livin' right now!" Skittery said sourly, chucking his cigarette down in frustration.

Boots chimed in, "I'll be back sleepin' on the streets."

Thinking about the worst of her own situation, Tug flicked the abandoned cigarette butt from the platform. She thought about what might happen if she didn't make enough money; her heart sank. Things weren't great, but something like this could really set her back, and then where would she be?

Naturally, everyone looked to Jack for a solution to the problem.

"Listen, one thing's for sure - if we don't sell papes then nobody sells papes. Nobody comes through those gates until they put the prices back to where it was," he declared after giving it some thought.

"You mean like a strike?" David, the new boy, offered up.

"Yeah, like a strike!" Jack agreed heartily.

Everyone laughed, including Tug; he couldn't possibly be serious. Then again, once Jack had an idea there was usually no turning back. They had all seen it before. Tug hung her head in her hands as talk about a strike carried on. A strike meant that she wouldn't be selling newspapers; no sales would mean no money; no money would mean - well, Tug didn't want to think about that.

David was now comparing their idea to strike to the reality of the trolley workers' strike. Thinking about it like that, Tug swallowed hard; she had read most of the stories surrounding that affair and it wasn't turning out very nice. Things had taken a violent turn in that event and what's to say something like that wouldn't happen to them; some newsies would likely not join the strike - then what do they do? Of course, Jack had already worked that out - they would 'bust the heads' of any newsy who didn't join up with them.

Tug sighed, torn by the issue at hand as she followed the herd of boys out into the square where Jack rallied everyone around the Horace Greeley statue. It was the perfect platform for his impromptu speech. Tug swung her legs over one of the railings to sit and listen. Jack seemed to have everyone convinced that a strike was the only way to set things straight. And even though she needed the money desperately, it didn't look like going against them was an option. These boys had become her friends and she had to stick by them, besides she was a newsy and this was her battle as well.

"Okay, you guys. You gotta be ambastards and go tell the others that we're on strike," Jack said, announcing his plan to spread the word to all corners of the city.

A few of the boys volunteered to go to different areas of the city: Harlem, the Bronx, and the Battery. Tug kept quiet, hoping that Jack wouldn't choose her when he started assigning boys to unclaimed sections. She was thankful when every place had been appointed and she wasn't among those chosen. Mush walked by and asked if she wanted to go to the Battery with him.

She shook her head. She couldn't leave Manhattan, not now, especially when she didn't know how long they would be gone. "Nah, I think I'll stick around here. See if Jack need anything else."

Mush shrugged and walked off.

She watched the others disperse until she felt someone poke her in the side. It was Tumbler. She grinned. "Hey, kid."

"D'ya knows how to read, Tug?" he asked, looking up at her hopefully.

She nodded. "Most words."

"So's ya can spell 'em too?"

Uncertain of where this was headed, Tug nodded slowly again. "Some."

His face lit up. "Could ya help me and some of the others? We's gonna make some signs. Ya know, like the trolley workers got."

Tug sighed; he could have asked for anything and she probably would have done it for him. "Yeah, I'll help ya, Tumbler. We gotta find something to write with and something to write on."

He nodded, taking the order carefully. "Got it!" He scurried off to tell Snitch; then the pair of them went off to find some materials.

With everyone off preparing for the strike, Tug was left alone at the statue to wait for them to return. She flopped down on one of the benches, pulled her knees to her chest, and rested her forehead on top of her knees. She thought about what they were about to do - the newsies were going on strike. They were going to go up against one of the most powerful men in New York. There was no way of knowing what would happen or how long it would go on.

Tug's stomach churned at the thought. She had some money set aside, but it would only last so long. A tear escaped the corner of her eye; she was tired of pretending to be a boy. She wanted to be herself again - to be a girl. She hated being relied on for so much; it shouldn't be her responsibility, but she had no choice in the matter. It was the only way - the only way for things to get better - for things to go back to how they used to be. In the mean time, she would have to be brave and hope for the best.


	6. Fault

Chapter 6: Fault

As with any group or organization, there appeared to be a hierarchy established within the system of New York City newsboys. Each section of the city had their own collection of newsies, with one boy considered the leader of the pack. Now as far as Manhattan was concerned, Jack Kelly was tops in this part of the city. There wasn't a newsie out there who didn't know Jack Kelly. He had quite the reputation as Manhattan's fearless leader and was respected by many. Yet, there was another even more respected newsy among them. His name was Spot Conlon and he was the leader of the Brooklyn newsies. The Brooklyn newsboys, it seemed, were upheld as royalty among all the newsies in New York City, which explained why their involvement in the strike was so crucial.

Tug found it difficult to believe that one group of newsies weighted the decisions of all the others. Did it really matter all that much if Brooklyn didn't participate? Certainly if they rallied the Bronx, Queens, Staten Island, and every other group to join them it would be enough to get their demands noticed. But no, it couldn't be that simple; boys, apparently, were incapable of thinking independently, because each of Jack's ambassadors came back with the same message: what's Brooklyn say? Even some of the Manhattan boys were a little leery of striking without with support of Brooklyn.

This really intrigued Tug. What exactly was so special about these Brooklyn newsies, and this Spot Conlon, that it had everyone at a stand still. Well, everyone but Jack. It seemed Jack had something to prove to this Spot character, because he was not going to be easily deterred from this cause. With a few choice words, helped along by David, Jack was able to get his newsies back on board. Gathered around the Greeley statue they waited for the circulation bell to ring, but purchasing newspapers was the last thing on their minds.

The bell rang out over the square, springing the newsboys into action. They stormed the gates like an angry army waging war on an opposing castle, and Weasel was the damsel in the high tower.

With their murderous looking mob blocking the exit, a few of the scabs surrendered, but not all of them would be so smart. It was the defiance of one rather large scab that sent the whole thing into a destructive frenzy. The sky began to rain bits of newspaper as the boys set to work shredding every sheet of newsprint they could get their hands on.

Caught up in the whirlwind of activity, Tug helped turned over one of the wagons. It was quite an exhilarating feeling to be involved in something of this nature - absolute chaos.

They continued their destruction of the World's distribution center until the shrill cry of whistles pierced through the air and Jack started yelling, "It's the bulls! Cheese it," that the reality of the situation sank back in. Tug glanced around in alarmed as they all high-tailed it out of there. She didn't look back as she followed Mush and Blink into one of the nearby alleys. Their feet pounded against the pavement as they darted between buildings, putting distance between them and the distribution center. After what seemed like hours - when they were certain they were in the clear - they came to a stop.

Slumping against the cool brick, Tug gulped down some much needed oxygen; she had never run so hard in her life. Her heart was pounding rapidly against her chest; she put her hand over it as though it might help to slow it down. Mush and Blink were doubled over, breathing heavily as well. They all took the time to regain their composure.

"That was close," Blink wheezed, still looking winded.

"Yeah," Mush agreed, nodding.

Breathing more steadily now, Tug glanced cautiously up and down the alley, all sense of direction lost.

"Where are we?"

"We ain't far from the from the lodging house," Mush said, pointing in the direction of the place they called home.

"I wonder if everyone got away?" Blink added, looking a bit worried.

"Only one way to find out. Let's go to the lodge, I bet the others'll be there," Mush suggested. "Come on, Tug. You can come too."

"Yeah, alright," she replied, following the two boys.

Tug had never been to the Newsboys Lodging House, but she had heard an awful lot about it. As they walked up to the shabby old building, it wasn't at all what she had pictured it to be. Not that she had pictured some glorious establishment, but it was definitely more homey than she expected.

The owner, who was introduced as Kloppman, waited expectantly at the front counter.

"Hiya boys!" He greeted them pleasantly. "Boots says you'se all was in some sorta trouble, but I see you'se managed to come out alright. They'se waitin' upstairs."

Mush and Blink climbed the stairs two at a time while Tug followed tentatively behind. They led her into a room lined with bunks. The boys had very close living quarters at the lodge, which explained why they tried to stay away fom it as much as possible. As she walked further into the room, her gaze met the untidiness that associated itself with boysm taking notice of the undergarments that were hanging from various places. Tug pulled the brim of her hat down over her eyes as her cheeks reddened. Quickly she redirected her focus to the boys that were moving around the room, noting who had made it back safely.

Boots, Tumbler, Skittery, Itey, and Specs appeared to greet the trio as they entered, glad to see one another safe. After they swapped stories, Tug sank down into a spare chair that sat at one end of the room to wait for the rest of the boys to return.

"Good to see ya made it, kid," Skittery said, patting her on the head as he passed by on his way to the washroom.

"Yeah, you too," she replied, hoping she didn't sound too uncomfortable, because someone had started undressing not too far from where she sat.

Every time Tug thought it was good time to leave, another wave of boys would appear and cause an uproar of celebration. It wasn't long before they were all present and accounted for - well, most everyone.

"So, everyone made it back all right?" Jack called out, gathering their attention. Looking pleased, he scanned the room.

"Hey, wait a minute," David said, also looking around the room. "Where's Crutchy?"

All eyes began to scan the room and look at one another, shrugging.

"Anybody seen Crutchy?" Jack asked anxiously.

Shaking their heads, it seemed no one had seen him.

"Uh, I ain't so sure he made it outta there, Jack," Racetrack admitted quietly. "I'se just outta the gate when I noticed he was still sittin' in there." He sniffed guiltily. "I ain't certain, but I think they got him, Jack."

The joyful atmosphere shifted dramatically as soon as Racetrack spoke. Heads were hung, curses were uttered, and things were thrown in anger for their fallen friend. Tug leaned forward, holding her face in her hands, her heart crushed with sadness for Crutchy. It could have been any one of them, but it had to be him. Anyone else would have at least been able to defend themselves, but Crutchy hardly stood a chance. Tug choked back the tears that were threatening to surface.

"I was right next to Crutchy. I shoulda helped him," Mush said angrily.

"It ain't yer fault," Tug said, knowing that it wouldn't comfort him. "It ain't nobody's fault."

A loud groan of frustration resonated from where Jack stood. He looked livid, whether at situation or someone in particular. It was a look that everyone was trying hard to avoid. He picked up a tin cup that was sitting next to his bunk and launched it at the opposite wall. It seemed to make him feel a little better.

"Come on, Davey," Jack said, grabbing David roughly as he walked by.

"Where are we goin', Jack?" David asked, surprised that Jack wanted him to come along.

"To get Crutchy," Jack replied and then the pair of them walked out the door.

Some of the boys that had been left behind seemed a little miffed that Jack had only asked David to go along with him; Tug could feel the tension rising in the room. She figured it was her cue to leave, especially now that she was certain all the others were safe. Before she left, she noticed that Mush was still sulking about Crutchy; she walked over to him and rested a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Look, I'm gonna go," she told him. "Don't be so hard on yerself, alright. Jack'll get Crutchy and everything will be fine."

"Yeah, see ya," Mush replied glumly.

Tug gave him a weak half-smile. It hurt to see her friend so down. She said her goodbyes and departed from the lodging house. After she had walked a few block and was well away, Tug let the tears run silently down her cheeks as she walked the dark streets toward home.


	7. Caught

Chapter 7: Caught

"They didn't get him out," Mush informed Tug the next morning when she joined them at their usual spot.

Despite the news, he seemed to be in a more cheery mood than the night before. In fact, all the boys appeared to be in high spirits even though Crutchy had been left at the Refuge. Mush explained that it had been Crutchy's decision to stay behind, which eased Tug's worries slightly; she couldn't help but think that the whole situation could have been avoided in the first place. However, this was not the time to be thinking about that; they had much more pressing matters at hand.

Jack was very adamant about sending a message to all those newsies who hadn't joined them, and to Pulitzer, which was why they were once again organized outside of the distribution center. They formed a sort of human barrier between the gates and the street, hoping to elude the scabs before they could go off selling.

It had created a stand-off, newsies against scabs. The scabs stood side-by-side, bundles of newspapers tucked under their arms. They nervously stared out at the sea of rebellious newsboys that were glaring menacingly back at them. Who would make the first move?

"All right, everyone remain calm," David announced, making the feeble attempt to subdue the anxious mob.

It was definitely easier said than done in this particular situation. Only seconds later Jack was yelling,

"Let's soak 'em for Crutchy." He pumped a fist in the air, leading his army forward. The rest of the boys shouted their agreement and rushed forward toward the scabs, who turned in retreat.

Tug felt her heart pick up pace as she pelted forward with the hungry pack. As they squeezed between the gates, she kept it in the back of her mind that this was for their confined friend. The thought instantly sent a surge of adrenaline through her body; she was finally prepared to fight for this cause.

They chased the scabs to the back wall, but all of the sudden Racetrack was shouting, "Jack! Jack, it's a trick!"

The doors behind the ramp were pulled open, revealing a motley group of men, who were wielding clubs and chains. The Delancey brothers scurried from their hiding place and joined the posse, both wearing smug grins.

Like the others around her, Tug scrambled to get away, but any chance of escape was blocked as the gates had been sealed shut. The newsies were trapped like animals waiting for slaughter. This wasn't just some school yard rumble; this was serious. Tug's stomach lurched; she prayed that she wouldn't throw up as the thugs pushed everyone back, threatening them with their weapons. A wide gap was left for Jack, who was neatly ducking and diving around vicious swipes from the Delanceys.

All the boys were shouting and pushing, trying to get past the rabble to help Jack. Tug couldn't see what was happening from where she stood, but it didn't matter because she was too busy trying to keep her body from colliding too heavily with Blink's. With her arms raised defensively, she concentrated - until movement on the rooftop caught her eye.

She wasn't the only person to notice, because fingers extended skyward and shouts of "Brooklyn" echoed all around. From their high perch, the Brooklyn newsies presented their arms, deadly accurate slingshots, and unleashed a hail of pellets onto the goons below. The effect of their efforts was immediate; the scene broke into an all out war.

In the sudden scuffle, Blink ducked under the outstretched arm of the goon nearest them. This left Tug exposed and in his direct line of fire. The great ugly brute wasted no time grabbing after her; he caught her by collar, dragging her toward him. Tug clawed uselessly at his iron grip, then beat her fists into every inch of the man she could get at.

Suddenly, her face exploded with pain; it felt as if it had shattered into a million pieces after his fist connected solidly with her cheek. She cowered as he raised his fist again, bracing herself for another heavy blow. It never came. At that same moment another brawling group went crashing between them, ripping her from his grip.

Tug stumbled backwards, still a bit dazed from the hit. She made contact with another body, who gave her a hefty shove away. Now pitching forward, carried by the momentum, she didn't have time to react when someone stepped into her path. She collided, full body, into his arms.

Steadying herself, her eyes rolled upward into the very big, very bewildered eyes of Skittery. His expression told all. Quickly his arms fell away and Tug wobbled slightly without the support. A million different things shouted through her head at once. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks as she finally comprehended what had just happened. When she didn't react any further, Skittery gave her another perplexed look before throwing himself back into the fray.

Rooted to the spot, Tug's mind reeled. It wasn't until she noticed Mush practically being strangled that she regained the ability to move. Shakily she hurried to his aid, jabbing her elbow sharply into the man's exposed ribcage. He issued a grunt and loosened his hold on Mush, who then slipped away, leaving the man doubled over. Rubbing his neck gingerly, Mush grinned his thanks to Tug.

Suddenly there was a loud ruckus as the gates were pulled open and all the Brooklyn newsies swarmed inside; with their help the newsies had the upper-hand and were able to overtake the thugs. When they finally ran them off, a celebration began. The newsboys cheered and congratulated one another as they marveled at their accomplishments. The newspaper reporter, Denton, who had been talking with Jack and David, even managed to rally the boys together for a group photo.

They certainly had a reason to celebrate, but it was the last thing Tug felt like doing. She sat down on a stack of newspapers, her head still swimming from the hit, and watched the jubilant chaos. Her wandering gaze stopped when she found Skittery. There had to be a way around what had happened with him; perhaps some sort of excuse would be plausible - unlikely; maybe that expression had been simply because she had barrelled into him - fat chance. Tug argued with herself, leaving out the tiniest bit of hope that maybe he had forgotten the whole incident.

No such luck.

His eyes met hers and instantly she knew...

He knew.

Without thinking twice, Tug lept from her seat and darted from the distribution center. She was just across the square when she heard someone calling after her.

"Tug! Wait!"

But she didn't want to wait; she didn't want to have to explain herself to anyone. All she wanted to do was get home as quickly as possible. Her head throbbed something terrible. With each step pounding in her head, Tug concentrated on running as fast as she could - but as boys tend to be faster than girls, Skittery caught up.

Catching her elbow, he forced her to slow down. Tug spun around to face him, shaking off his grip; not even bothering to mask her voice, she grumbled, "What?"

He didn't speak straight away; instead he studied her for a moment, confirming his suspicions before making the accusation. "Yer a... Yer a..." He was at a loss for the word, still disbelieving; though he knew it to be true, he could only stare.

Tug rolled her eyes when the word failed him. Had he really chased her down just to stutter and gawk? Glancing around to make sure no one else was within earshot, she sighed. "A girl."

"Uh, yeah," he slowly agreed, scratching the back of his head. "I had no idea."

A faint grin pulled at her lips. "That's kinda the idea. No one knows."

He nodded, averting his gaze.

An awkward silence settled between them.

"Skittery?" she said quietly, after a few painstakingly long seconds had gone by.

"Um, yeah?" he replied, raising his eyes from the thorough inspection he was giving his shoes.

"You ain't gonna tell nobody, are ya?" she asked anxiously, chewing her lip - all her girlish habits suddenly bursting forth.

He studied her for a minute, and when he didn't agree right away Tug grasped for something else to say in her defense.

"You can't, because -" She stopped herself; she didn't owe anyone an explanation. "Well, ya just can't, all right?"

Pleading with her eyes, she tried to read his expression. And after a few more deliberating seconds, he nodded.

"Yeah, alright. I ain't gonna say nothing."

Relieved, she pulled off her cap, ran her arm across her damp forehead, and offered him a grateful smile.

"Thanks."

"Tug!" Skittery exclaimed suddenly, giving her a start. His eyes widened as he noticed a bruise surfacing around her right eye.

"What?"

"Yer face!" he replied, reaching out towards her.

Instinctively, Tug swatted his hand aside. She scowled, annoyed. The truth had only been out for five minutes and already she felt like he was acting differently toward her.

"I'll be fine. It don't hurt much," she lied, stuffing the cap back on her head. "Look, I gotta go. See ya tomorrow I suppose."

Skittery nodded. "Yeah, sure. See ya."

"Oh! One more thing," she said to his retreating back. He turned; she spit into her hand and offered it to him. Doing likewise, he took her hand in his. Tug's nose crinkled slightly; it truly was as disgusting as it looked, but it was a symbol of friendship.

Skittery gave her a quick smile and then disappeared toward the square. Once he was out of sight, Tug groaned. This was going to complicate things.


	8. Mood

Chapter 8: Mood

Tug trudged slowly through the streets - there was no reason to rush anyway; they were only meeting at Tibby's so that they could plan the next step in the strike. She had another reason for wanting to take her time; she was anxious about seeing the boys after what had happened with Skittery the day before.

She was having a difficult time accepting the reality of the situation, and had spent a sleepless night turning over the idea in her mind. It made her anxious to think that Skittery knew the truth; he was like a plugged leak just waiting to burst. Sure, Skittery had said he wouldn't tell anyone, but a tiny part of was uncertain if he would uphold his word -- it wasn't like there was anything to stop him from telling the others. Tug simply had to believe that he would keep her secret.

Drawing in a deep, calming breath, Tug pulled open the heavy diner door and stepped inside. She did a quick sweep of the room, noting who was already present. Skittery did not seem to be among them. As she approached the tables, eager faces turned and greeted her, all talking at once.

"Hey! Skittery told us what happened yesterday."

"Yeah, told us all about it."

"Shoulda stuck around. Ya coulda told us!"

"Wh-What?" she spluttered, the words just barely squeaking out because her throat seemed to have shriveled up. Her stomach dropped, making her feel queasy - it was lucky she hadn't eaten, because she was certain the remains would have ended up on the floor - they bombarded her with a half-a-million questions. After a moment the queasiness moved aside for a flash of anger when she realized Skittery's betrayal. She had really wanted to believe that he had meant what he said; he seemed so sincere at the time, but as it was, he hadn't kept his word.

Some of the boys were now standing in their seats, leaning in, and looking at her very closely.

"Awe, come on Tug, show us!"

"Yeah, we wanna see!"

"Ya can't be that bad."

Instinctively, Tug took a step backward, completely mortified by their implications. She was at a complete loss for words. What kind of girl did they think she was? Her cheeks burned a fiery red; she could feel tears prickle at the backs of her eyes. She never imagined this reaction from them.

A hand suddenly shot out towards her and she made the attempt to swat it aside, but missed. Her cap fell to the floor and Racetrack whistled.

"Wow! Look at that shiner! Ain't it a beaut?"

Tug felt the tension in her muscles relax slightly as the others submitted their compliments on the black eye she had taken away from yesterday's fight. Skittery hadn't sold her out at all; he had simply told them of her injury. They still had no idea that she was a girl. Tug had never felt nearer to to having a heart attack then just a moment ago, but now her heart resumed its normal pace. Calmed down, she scooped her cap from the floor and slid into the empty chair between Racetrack and Blink.

"Bet that hurt, huh?" Mush said, slapping her on the back as he walked by, taking the seat across the table.

Feeling her mood improve by the second, Tug couldn't help but quip, "Not as much as that goon's hand probably does."

The boys laughed and carried on, talking about the skirmish at the distribution center. Flipping open a menu, Tug smiled to herself, glad to still be one of the boys.

As more of the boys filtered into the diner, each of them had to stop to offer Tug their compliments on the unsightly bruise, which covered a nice portion of her face - even the infamous Spot Conlon gave her a nod of approval.

Tug was beginning to think Skittery had talked it up a little much - that, or perhaps boys just have a thing for grotesque reminders of battle.

When Skittery finally arrived, he did as the others had done and inspected her face. But, unlike the other boys, whose eyes glinted at the badge of honor, Skittery's eyes softened ever so slightly as he saw the full damage. Still, he gave her a pat on the shoulder and muttered, "Nice one, kid," before joining Specs and Pie Eater at one of the other tables.

---

Tug had just cleaned her plate and was in the process of skewering one of Mush's uneaten sausages with her fork, when Denton, the reporter from the Sun, waltzed into the restaurant. He was carrying the morning edition of his newspaper, where the headline officially announced the progress of the newsies' strike. Denton set it on the table in front of Jack; there was a scramble as everyone else crowded around him to get a look.

Moving into Racetrack's abandoned chair, Tug had one of the better views. A good-size photograph of the Manhattan newsboys (and Spot) stared up at her. Seeing it made her wish that she had been in a clearer state of mind at the time, then maybe she would have been on the front page with them.

All the boys were beaming proudly, hardly daring to believe that they were worthy of front page news - well, all but one.

"So what? You get yer picture in the papes, what's that get ya, huh?" Skittery grumbled.

"What're ya talkin' about, huh?" Mush replied, giving him a shove.

"Shut up! You've been in a bad mood all day!" Jack shot back.

"I'm not in a bad mood," Skittery protested.

"Glum and dumb. What's the matter with you?" Racetrack exclaimed, smacking him in the face. "If yer in the papes, yer famous - yer famous you get anything ya want." He slammed his hand down pointedly on the table. "That's what's so great about New York."

Skittery folded his arms grumpily across his chest, gazing narrowly across the table.

Catching his eye, Tug quickly averted her eyes; from that one little glance, she got the distinct impression that she was the reason for his bad mood.

* * *

**(Insert big song and dance number here: King of New York)**


	9. Different

Chapter 9: Different

Once Jack and David had decided to 'send a message to the big boys' by having a rally with newsies from all over the city, Tug had the opportunity to pull a rather reluctant Skittery aside; she had to find out why he was shooting her dark looks from across the room. Everyone else was so occupied with organizing the rally that they didn't pay the two of them any attention, assuming that they too were involved in something rally related.

"You gotta stop lookin' at me like that," Tug hissed, eyeing Skittery curiously. She had an inkling as to what it was about, but she wasn't completely certain.

"Like what?" he snapped back at her, the tension in his face making his eyes narrow.

"That!" she said pointedly. Frowning, she asked, "Did I do something wrong?"

His expression softened slightly when he saw her concern. Sighing, he replied, "Not exactly."

"What then?" she demanded. "Tell me."

"It's just," he glanced at her guiltily. "I wish I didn't know is all."

Confused, Tug's eyebrows knitted together as she tried to piece his response together. "What's the big deal?"

Skittery didn't speak right away; he appeared to be contemplating his next words. "Knowing just makes everything different now."

"How so?"

"Because, yer a _girl_," he explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"It don't make no difference what I am. I'm still the same person as before."

Skittery shook his head, because to him it didn't matter. Knowing her secret definitely made things different. "Yeah, but now I see ya differently."

"Why?" she pressed, unable to wrap her mind around why any of this made a difference to him. He should just accept the unfortunate turn of events and move on.

"_Because,_" he stressed, trying and failing to make her see reason. "_I know yer a girl_."

Tug groaned inwardly, frustrated by his inability to elaborate. They were unable to finish the conversation, however, because just then Specs was making his way toward them. Tug cleared her throat, trying not to look as irritated as she felt. Glancing sideways at Skittery she noticed he wasn't making any effort to wipe the unpleasant expression from his face - then again, for him that expression was typical.

"Hey ya, fellas," Specs said cheerfully, completely unaware of what he had just interrupted. "Jack wants us to spread word 'bout the rally so me and Bumlets are goin' to Queens. You two want to come?"

Tug was just about to decline the invitation when Skittery spoke up.

"I'll go, but he ain't goin'," he said, jerking his head in Tug's direction.

Tug's eyes nearly fell from her head, she opened them so wide; she had to remind herself not to let her mouth hang open as she stared angrily at Skittery. How was it his place to answer for her?

"What d'ya mean I ain't goin'?" Tug spluttered, fighting off the urge to put her hands on her hips; instead she balled them into fists at her side.

Stressing each word, Skittery said again, "You ain't goin'."

"I am so," Tug heard herself say, if nothing more than to spite him. She even had half a notion to deck him, but thought the better of it. "You ain't gonna stop me."

Thoroughly confused by this little exchange, Specs said, "Yeah Skittery, he can come if he wants to. We'll need the help." He looked between them nervously. "Look, we're meetin' at the statue in ten minutes, alright?"

"Yeah," Skittery replied gruffly.

Tug nodded silently.

As soon as Specs was out of range, Tug turned to Skittery and said hotly, "You got some nerve. If I was a boy ya wouldn't've said that!"

"Well, you ain't a boy, are ya?" he hissed, then without another world he stalked out of the diner.

---

Only twice in her seventeen years of existence had Tug ever left the familiar surroundings of Manhattan. The first time was when she was just a small child. Her father had taken her with him to Aqueduct Racetrack. Nice place to take a kid, right? But, thinking back on it, it had been just like her father to want to her to have the experience; he had always been the adventurous type and it was always a special treat when she was allowed to accompany him.

Her second journey outside of Manhattan was only a few years back, this time with her mother. They traveled to Hoboken, New Jersey after receiving the news of a death in her mother's family. It wasn't a close relative, but her mother chose to attend all the same - wanting to spend time with the family. Tug relished the opportunity to leave the island and explore a new place, as she had grown to be like her father, in his adventure-seeking ways.

Tug tried to look at this trip to Queens as an opportunity to see more of the city, to see how newsies in the other boroughs lived, but she just couldn't. There were too many things on her mind - one of them walking next to Specs. Skittery hadn't spoke to her since their conversation at the restaurant, which only added to the various thoughts running through her head.

Nearly at their destination, they turned a corner onto a rundown old street. Houses on either side looked as though they had been through a war. Chunks of brick that had fallen lay scattered on the ground amidst broken glass; windows were either cracked or completely shattered; iron bars were missing from various spots on the sagging, rusty fire escapes. Tug crinkled her nose; the air was thick with a foul odor, mostly the must of grim and mold.

Down a bit further was a large building whose windows filled the dark street with some light. Silhouetted against the flood of light, a group of boys sat on the stoop, smoking. They were perched beneath a rotting sign that read: Newsboys Lodging House. This was it.

The small clan of newsies turned to look at the four Manhattaners closing in on them. One of the boys lept to his feet and stole into the building while the rest got to their feet, eyeing up the newcomers with a rather unwelcoming gaze.

"You'se back again?" a greasy haired boy called out, sneering. "I thought we told ya we ain't interested in joining yer strike."

"We wanna talk to him, Leech," Specs stated plainly, looking over the tops of his glasses at the menacing group.

The boy named Leech opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the appearance of a few more boys, filing from the building and standing alongside their comrades. The greasy haired boy turned and spoke to someone lingering just inside the door.

"Hey Knots, Manhattan's back. They want a word with ya." He turned and grinned toothily back at them.

A stocky, round face boy, whose nose seemed to permanently stuck in the air, stepped onto the pavement. With a style of arrogance, he strutted towards the Manhattan newsies; the other boys followed, clearly signifying that he was their leader.

"You'se back again?"

"Hey! That's what I says, Knots," Leech boasted, looking very pleased with himself.

Pressing his lips in a thin line, Knots rolled his eyes. "I thought we told ya to beat it. We ain't joinin' yer strike, Manhattan."

The Queens newsies kept advancing toward them in an attempt to drive them off. Thinking about the possibility of another fight, Tug felt her heart begin to race and she found herself eyeing those ridiculous sticks that Skittery and Bumlets always carry around - thankful that they had something to defend themselves with, as they were clearly out numbered.

"Just hear us out," Bumlets said quickly. "We're gettin' all the newsies together for a rally at Irving Hall tomorrow night. All the papes are gonna be there."

"I ain't doin' nothin' for Jack Kelly. I don't care if all the papes in the country was there. We still ain't goin'," Knots growled, almost nose to nose with Bumlets. "Now, I think it's time you'se was leavin'."

As one of the Queens boys shoved Specs, Skittery shifted so that he was standing in front of Tug; he and Bumlets gripping their sticks and glaring at the opposition. Tug peered around Skittery, a thought suddenly occurred to her.

"Brooklyn'll be there," she called out, praying that her hunch was right.

"So?" Knots replied with a shrug, trying to play it cool, but Tug could see the wheels inside his head turning.

"Well, it's just, Spot's taken a special interest in the matter. He was hopin' for support from all the newsies, ya know? We're all in this together, ain't we? Anyway, I don't think I'd wanna be the one to go against Spot," she said, giving a slight shrug like it wasn't a big deal - on the contrary, her limbs were shaking like mad - trying to keep her voice even, she added, "But look, if ya ain't gonna come to the rally that's yer problem. 'Sides, I'm sure Spot ain't gonna care all that much."

Tug waited, holding her breath, but did not breaking eye contact, as they waited for the Queens leader to speak; by his sour expression, he seemed to be weighing the consequences. Cutting into the silence after a few moments went by, Tug said,

"Come on, fellas. We're wastin' out time here. We'd better head back." Giving a jerk of her head as an indication to walk away, Tug turned; she had to bite down on her cheek to keep from laughing out loud at the expressions that distorted her friends' faces, baffled by her sudden outspokenness.

"Hang on," Knots grumbled, not looking at all pleased with the decision he had made.

---

"That was some quick thinkin' back there, Tug," Specs declared, clapping her on the back. Victory had been theirs as Queens decided it was in their best interest to attend the rally. Now, the Manhattaners were making their way back to more familiar territory.

"How'd ya know mentioning Spot would change his mind?" Bumlets asked.

"I didn't." Tug shrugged. "But from what he said, I figured he didn't know Brooklyn was in on it."

"Well, it got us outta a tight jam there. I thought for sure they was gonna soak us," Specs added.

Tug gave another shrug. "Yeah, I figured I had to try something; two black eyes would've been a bit much."

There was a collective sense of relief when they reached Herald Square. They headed to Tibby's after having looked for Jack and then others at the lodging house. When they walked into the restaurant, Jack and David appeared to be in the middle of a heated discussion. They were arguing over whether or not they should keep soaking the scabs; it looked like David was winning the argument.

"Well? What's Knots got to say? Is Queens in?" Jack demanded once he had spotted them.

Specs nodded. "Yeah. Queens'll be there."

"Good. Now that's everyone but Harlem, huh?" Jack asked, directing his inquiry at David, who nodded. "Right. Good work, fellas."

With their mission complete, Bumlets clapped his hands together and settled himself at a nearby table. "All that walkin' made me hungry!"

Specs and Skittery joined him at the table, but Tug did not. It was later than usual and darkness had already begun creeping over the city. She really had to be getting home. Bidding them goodnight, she started off on the familiar path toward home.

As she stepped into the shadows of the first alleyway, she heard footsteps coming up quickly behind her. She spun around to see a figure slowing as he neared.

"Hey," he said quietly.

A bit surprised, Tug gave a nod and muttered, "Oh so yer talkin' to me now, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess so." He glanced around nervously, giving a shrug. "Can I walk ya home?"


	10. Home

Chapter 10: Home

A bit reluctant at first, Tug eventually agreed to let Skittery walk with her; as much as she tried to deny the need for an escort, it was a nice gesture. She thought about how many times in the past month she had walked the dark streets, afraid only the first few times she had made the journey. But, as time wore on her fear had subsided, knowing that she was safe under her guise as a newsboy - though she never strayed from the most direct path. It had been weeks since she thought about the risks of being alone after nightfall, but seeing Skittery's concern she was very aware of how dangerous it could be.

They walked in silence for a few blocks, neither of them knowing what to say to the other. Tug shot a fleeting glance at him occasionally, but his blank expression made him difficult to read. Shoving her hands into her pockets, she decided it was best to keep quiet for now and not say anything she might regret.

Passing into a patch of light, Tug did the slightest of double-takes when she noticed Skittery was grinning to himself. Her eyebrows flew upward. What could he possibly find funny; nothing had happened to warrant his change of expression. Curiosity getting the best of her, she finally had to ask,

"What's so funny?"

Skittery smiled. "I was just thinkin' about that time a girl asked ya to dance. D'ya remember?"

Tug snorted; it had been over a week since the incident and she had forgotten that he was sitting there when it happened. "How can I forget. I mean, it ain't every day a girl asks me to dance."

"Ya know, a lot of things about ya make more sense now," he confessed since the silence had been broken. "Like the look on yer face when that girl came up to ya. Ya looked so uncomfortable, but ya had a good cover up. I mean, ya don't really got a girlfriend, do ya?"

"No!" she squealed, scandalized by the very thought. "What makes ya say that?"

Skittery shrugged. "I'm just asking. It's just that ya disappear every night. Where d'ya go? Ya got a boyfriend or something?"

"No, it's nothin' like that," Tug replied, shaking her head. "I just got things to take care of at home. I don't wanna talk about it, alright?"

"Alright. It ain't really none of my business anyhow."

He still looked worried for her; Tug could see it in his eyes. Suddenly, she wanted desperately to explain everything to him, but at the same time, she couldn't bring herself to do it. A silence sank in around them once more; they remained that way until they arrived at the doorstep of her apartment building.

During that time, Tug argued with herself about whether or not she should just let him further into her world, into her life. There were a million reasons not to let him in, but the one reason in his favor outweighed all those against him; she wanted a friend, someone who could understand exactly what she was going through. Besides, he already knew her biggest secret, a little more couldn't hurt.

Skittery looked around awkwardly, searching for something to say after all the silence. Biting her lip, Tug made her decision and broke the tension. "I was just gonna make some food. You wanna come up?"

Taken aback by the invitation, Skittery stuttered, "Ye-Yeah, sure."

He followed her up the stairs to the third floor. Tug fumbled her key as she tried to unlock the door to number 305. She looked back at Skittery apologetically - perhaps, she hadn't thought this through completely, but there was no going back now - then finally she managed to turn the key.

She gave the stubborn door a shove with her shoulder and stumbled into a small, dark room. The only light came from the cracks around a door on the opposite wall. Tug placed a finger to her lips, signaling for Skittery to keep quiet. She walked softly across the floor, trying to get to a light. Misjudging the location of the sofa, Tug cracked her knee on the corner of it. She yelped in pain, but still managed to reach the light.

"Sweetheart is that you?" said a muffled voice from behind the glowing door.

"Yeah, be right there, Ma," Tug called back. She slumped against the sofa, nursing her latest injury. When the pain subsided, she gingerly moved across the room, signaling again for Skittery to wait, which was exactly what he had been doing.

Opening the door gently, Tug poked her head inside the room. "Hi, Ma. Sorry I'm late. We had a busy day."

"I'm glad yer back. I was getting a little worried," her mother replied, sounding very tired. She smiled lovingly at her daughter. "Will you make soup tonight. I think some soup would be nice."

"Sure, Ma," Tug assured her with a nod. Looking back out into the living room, she beckoned to Skittery. "I - uh - I have somebody I want ya to meet, Ma." She pulled him into the room. "This is Skittery. He's one of the boys I been tellin' ya about."

Stepping into the room, Skittery found Tug's mother tucked into bed, propped up with a couple of pillows. She looked very frail, outlined against white linens. She had dark circles around her eyes, which drooped tiresomely; her complexion was a ghostly pale, but still she managed to smile softly at the boy.

"It's nice to finally meet someone. My son has told me all about you boys," she said quietly, playing along with her daughter's charade.

Tug chuckled and sat down on the edge of the bed next to her mother. "It's alright, Ma, Skittery knows - and they call me Tug, I told ya that."

"It's nice to meet ya, ma'am," Skittery replied politely.

"What's yer name again?" her mother asked.

"Skittery, ma'am," he repeated, grinning when she made a face at the name.

"Well then, Skittery, maybe you can tell me how my beautiful daughter got this awful bruise on her face."

Skittery shifted uncomfortably, looking from Tug's horrified expression to her mother's insistent one. He had no idea what to say; it was obvious Tug hadn't told her mother the truth. Luckily Tug jumped in.

"Ma, I told ya, it was an accident. Racetrack always talks with his hands. He got a little carried away when he was telling us about something and I happened to be sitting beside him," Tug lied, praying that Skittery would just play along as her mother look to him for confirmation.

Feeling her gaze, Skittery said quickly, "Yes, ma'am. I saw the whole thing."

Tug's mother frowned, hardly looking convinced; sensing a break in the interrogation, Tug turned to Skittery. "Hey, can ya give us a minute? I'll be right out."

As soon as he left the room, Tug looked back at her mother, exasperated, "You must be feeling better if yer interrogating my guests."

Her mother smiled faintly, patting Tug's hand softly. "He seems like a very nice boy - handsome too."

Tug rolled her eyes, but smiled. "I'd better fix ya somethin' to eat - yer a bit delirious."

She kissed the top of her mother's hand and then left the room, shutting the door behind her. Looking around the room she expected to see Skittery, but he was not there. Tug frowned, wondering where he might have gone; he could have at least said goodbye if he didn't want to stick around. Moving to the kitchen, Tug set to work heating the soup, feeling rather foolish.

"Tug," Skittery said, poking his head in through the window, which led out to the fire escape. Startled, Tug flinched. "I'm out here. I needed a smoke."

Tug grinned, grateful for his consideration. "I'm just gonna heat this up and then I'll be out."

When the food was ready, Tug took a bowl into her mother and kissed her goodnight. Then she ducked through the window, joining Skittery on the fire escape. She handed him one of the sandwiches she was holding and plopped herself down on the stairs that led to the next level.

"Sorry it ain't much," she apologized.

"Thanks."

Chewing on the corner of the bread, she watched him for a moment, collecting her thoughts. "So, now ya know why I disappear every night - why I pretend to be a boy, to be a newsy. She can't work, so I gotta take care of her," she explained quietly.

"Why a newsy though? There are plenty of jobs for girls out there," he pointed out.

"They don't pay as good. A girl can't really make a decent livin' by herself; that's why we're expected to marry. But, I can't exactly do that 'cause I gotta take care of my Ma. We're all each other's got."

"What happened to yer father?" Skittery asked, sitting down on the step beside her.

Tug hesitated; it was a difficult memory. She reached over and stole the cigarette from him, taking a long drag before continuing. "He was a good man; worked hard at the factory to provide for us. Then one day, one of them big machines fell - a part had come loose, they said. He died in the hospital the next day."

"I'm sorry," Skittery mumbled.

Staring at her knees, Tug nodded. "I was eight when it happened. But that was a long time ago. It don't hurt so much to talk about it no more." She looked up and grinned reassuringly. After a moment, she asked, "What about you, huh? What about yer family?"

Skittery leaned back and rested his elbows on the step behind him. He looked distantly down the alley and shrugged. "I dunno. I grew up in an orphanage. When I turned thirteen they chucked me out on the streets. The newsies been my family ever since."

"I'm so sorry," she muttered quietly.

They sat in silence for a while, neither of them having anything more to say on the matter. Tug thought about Skittery's situation. She couldn't wrap her mind around a life where she hadn't known her parents. It was an awful feeling. She found herself wondering why Skittery's parents had left him. What reason would anyone have to do that? She just couldn't fathom it. Then her thoughts turned to the other newsies and she realized just how little she knew about them. Never before had she taken the time to think about what their lives were like before they became newsboys.

With all these thoughts reeling through her mind, something else about the boys surfaced. It was another one of those things that she hadn't really thought about before, because it had never come up. Tug glanced sideways at Skittery, studying him for a moment before breaking the silence.

"What's yer real name?" she asked, eyes dancing with curiosity. "I mean, I don't think yer mother named ya Skittery."

Skittery chuckled lightly. Scratching the back of his head, he replied with a smirk, "Gee, it's been so long since anyone's called me by my real name, I ain't sure if I remember what it is."

Tug's raised her eyebrows doubtfully. She knew he was teasing, but it probably still held some truth. "How long d'ya think it's been?"

"I'd say 'bout five years - since I joined the newsies," he said thoughtfully, and then he laughed. "One of the older fellas called me Skittery the first day. It just kinda stuck, ya know?"

"Yeah, I think I know how that goes," she agreed with a grin. Not about to let him change the subject, Tug quirked an interested eyebrow. "Come on then, tell me yer name. Please?"

Skittery shook his head and said flatly, "No." Tug opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. "You gotta tell me yers first."

Tug frowned, narrowed her eyes, and poked her fingers into his shoulder. "Hey! I asked you first!"

"I ain't tellin' ya, 'til you tell me yers," Skittery declared stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest. He stared fixedly up at the night sky and didn't move.

Tug waited it out, hoping that he would eventually give in. As the minutes dragged on and Skittery still refused to speak, she realized he was not going to cave. He certainly was stubborn when he wanted to be. Tug sighed; she hated the feeling of defeat, but he was not budging. She was going to have to be the one to give in.

"Claire," she breathed softly, glancing sideways to observe his reaction.

A smug grin pulled at his lips.

"Claire," he repeated, testing the name out. He nodded his approval.

Tug felt the heat rise in her cheeks when he spoke her name. It seemed like ages had passed since someone, other than her mother, had called her by her proper name. Hearing it again made her very aware of herself as a girl, and not the boy she was pretending to be. Her thoughts jumped all over in quick succession: first to her face, the hideous bruise that encircled her eye - the dirt and dust that had built up throughout the day; then to her hair, cut so unflatteringly short, probably matted to her head from behind tucked under her cap all day; finally, to her clothes, she was still wearing her trousers and vest - completely embarrassing by any girl's standard, and to be in the company of a boy. Tug had to remind herself that Skittery had never seen her any other way, and that he knew the reason she looked like she did.

"Well?" she demanded when he didn't hold up his end of the bargain.

Drawing in a deep breath, he turned and looked her, simply saying, "Sam."

"Sam," Tug said, mimicking him. She grinned, feeling as if he had just told her a secret.

Skittery and Tug talked for a long time, filling the warm night air with lighthearted conversation, intermingled with periods of silence. By the time they decided to call it a night, many of the lights from the windows in the opposite buildings had been extinguished.

They crawled back into the small, stuffy living room. Tug almost didn't want him to leave. It had been so nice to have someone to talk to, even when it was about nothing at all.

Her dejected expression must have been noticeable, because Skittery said, "I can stay if ya want?"

Tug laughed softly, pushing him out the door. "I don't think so. Goodnight Skittery!"

"Goodnight Claire," he said with a grin as she closed the door on him.


	11. Boys

Chapter 11: Boys

Tug made her way to Tibby's the following morning where the boys were preparing for the rally that night. Pulling open the door, she was greeted by high-pitched hysterical laughter, which could only be coming from one person, Mush. He wasn't the only one laughing, just the most audible - all the boys seemed to be in a fit laughter over something.

Tug slid into a vacant seat next to Mush, swiping a piece of toast from his plate. "Hey, fellas," she said, giving them a look of interest. "What's goin' on?"

Practically wiping the tears from his eye, Blink stifled his giggles long enough to spit out, "Sk-Sk-Skittery..." but it was all he could manage before being overwhelmed by laughter once more.

Eyebrows flying upward, Tug glanced curiously down the table at a rather red-faced Skittery. He looked as if he had had about enough of whatever they were on about. Turning to Racetrack, who seemed to have a better handle on his behavior than most of the others, she quirked a brow questioningly.

Racetrack grinned, lighting up a cigar before explaining, "Skittery was out with a girl last night," which sent Blink off again.

"Can ya believe it? He just told us. Skittery - with a girl!"

Caught completely off guard by this news, Tug gasped, causing the toast she had just swallowed to stick in her throat. She started coughing loudly. Mush gave her a sound thump on the back, which dislodged it.

"Yeah, we can't believe it neither," Racetrack replied with a smirk, noting her reaction.

"What?" she exclaimed after she had regrouped from nearly choking, throwing a bewildered look down the table. She couldn't believe he actually told them that - not that it would out her or another, but it was the principle of the matter. Quickly, Tug adjusted her shock and went along with the others. "Yer right, I don't believe it."

"Yeah," Mush said, grinning. "He didn't get in until _real_ late last night -" and with a distant look in his eye, he added, "lucky guy."

"Come on, Skittery, tell us who the broad was, huh? Where'd ya meet her? What'd ya do?" Racetrack asked, making heavily implications on his last question.

Tug couldn't help but laugh to herself; it was quite fascinating to listen to them talk about Skittery's mystery girl while she sat there, the girl in question, and they were none the wiser - and with all the insinuations being thrown around, it made her wonder what kind of girls they usually associated with. On second thought, she really didn't want to think about that. She was curious, however, to see how Skittery was going respond to all their inquiries.

"Her name don't matter," he snapped, and then he shrugged. "I was just walkin' when I met her, alright? You don't know her. Enough questions."

"Awe, come on, Skitts! It ain't every night yer out with a girl," Blink reminded him, to which Skittery responded with a rude hand gesture. "And you was out late too."

"At least tell us how she looked. Was she real pretty?" Mush asked, wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

Tug snorted, her eyes dancing under the brim of her cap, anxious to hear Skittery's response to that question. She leaned back in her chair so that she could get a good look at him and couldn't resist calling out, seconding Mush's demand. "Yeah, tell us - how did she look, huh?"

His eyes widened; Tug could tell he was trying very hard not too look in her direction as he replied, "I ain't sayin, alright? I don't want none of you bums gettin' any ideas."

"Ooh, one night with her and you ain't even gonna tell us who she is?" teased Blink. "She must be somethin' else, this girl."

"Yeah, she something else, alright," Skittery agreed dryly, sending a fleeting glance at Tug, who felt her cheeks flush.

Instantly she redirected her gaze, regretting having egged him on. She wanted the conversation to be over, soon. It was getting embarrassing. No sooner said than done; only a few short minutes later Jack, David, and Les walked in. It didn't take long for Jack to settle everyone into a discussion about the rally.

8:00PM at Irving Hall.


	12. Rally

Chapter 12: Rally

Hundred of lights illuminated the old theater, flooding the street with its dazzling, golden glow. A rumble of voices polluted the night air as flocks of newsies lingered just outside the front door, waiting for their comrades to turn up. They greeted one another respectfully as more and more boys crept out from the city's shadows.

Cursing, Tug swung around the corner and sprinted down the crowded street. She was late. Jack had wanted them to be there much earlier than this, but she had gotten caught up at home. Weaving her way through the sea of newsies, Tug stumbled through the door. While smoothing down her rumpled jacket, she scanned the crowd for Jack and the others. When there was no sign of them, she ran her fingers through her hair and put her cap back on her head, pulling the brim low over her eyes.

"Tug!" called Snitch, squeezing between two bodies to get to her. "We thought you wasn't gonna show."

"Yeah, sorry. Somethin' came up," she said breathlessly, still winded from the run. "Where is everybody?"

Snitch pointed through the archway that led into the auditorium. Standing on her toes so that she could see over the heads, Tug could just make out a few familiar faces.

"Thanks," she said, patting him on the shoulder. He continued on his way as she slowly picked through the people to the front of the stage.

"Hey fellas," she called, stepping into the vacant space next to Blink.

A chorus of greetings and questions were immediately thrown her way.

"Where's Gloria?" Mush asked, looking past her. "I thought you was bringin' her tonight?"

"Oh, she ain't feelin' good," Tug said quickly. It had been the first thought in her mind; she had completely forgotten that she was supposed to bring 'Gloria' to the rally. Not that it really mattered that she had forgotten; it wasn't like there was actually someone to bring. She would have had to come up with an excuse for Gloria's absence either way.

The boys looked disappointed, but accepted the reason, also suspecting that it was the reason she was late. Tug gave them an apologetic smile.

"Another time, I guess," she added, shoving her hands into her pockets and looking around the room while the boys turned back to their conversation.

The theater was filling quickly and the noise level was rising as newsies swarmed through the doors. It was quite an amazing sight to behold. Every area of New York City appeared to be represented; they displayed their presence proudly with signs and banners. All these boys had come together under one roof to unite under one cause. They were a bunch of kids rallying against some of the most powerful men in the city, and they were ready to make this night a turning point in their campaign.

Noticing a sign that read 'Queens', Tug looked more closely. She recognized a few of the faces from the day before. Right away she was able to single out Knots, their leader. He still had his nose held high above the rest as he surveyed the scene with his beady eyes. A sudden, overwhelming urge to walk over there and slap that smug look clean off his face rose up inside of Tug, but then something else caught her eye - something that left her feeling as if she had been the one slapped smartly in the face.

Standing just a short distance from her was a small group of girls; one of them was David's sister, Sarah. Tug glanced around nervously, hoping that no one would notice her staring. When she was certain that no one was watching her, she looked back at the girls again.

It looked like they had relished the chance to get dressed up for the occasion. Each of them had come wearing the finest dress they owned; their hair was done up all proper, in perfect little ringlets that rested beautifully on their shoulders; a couple of them wore fancy hats to compliment their outfits. The girls were giggling to one another, eyes darting around shyly, looking at all the boys.

A twinge of jealousy plucked at Tug's heart. She couldn't help but think that she could look just as pretty, if she wanted to.

Unable to tear her eyes away, Tug continued to watch them. It was absolute torture to be reminded of everything she was not, at the moment. She could feel the prickle of tears behind her eyes as some boys took notice of the girls. With tremendous difficulty, Tug choked back the tears - she could not let herself cry, not now. She had to be the boy, not the girl, right now.

Suddenly, she was jerked from her trance because someone was trying to get her attention. Hoping that she didn't actually look like she was about to cry, Tug turned to the person who was tugging on her sleeve. She was a bit relieved to find Skittery. He looked at her curiously - her distress was not as well hidden as she had hoped - and then looked over her head in the direction she had been staring. With a solemn nod of understanding, he leaned in close to her ear.

"Come on," he said loudly over the noise. "We're gonna stand next to the stage."

He grabbed the cuff of her sleeve and pulled her through the crowd. As they snake between bodies, Tug took the opportunity to wipe her eyes with her free sleeve and shake off all the emotion that had erupted.

"Why were you late? Is everything alright?" Skittery asked after they had found their place next to Specs.

"I got caught up at home. I'm fine," she replied, wishing he wouldn't look at her like that right now.

"You sure?" he pressed, resting a hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah!" she insisted, shrugging him off. He didn't look convinced.

Luckily the conversation was cut short as Jack, David, and Spot walked out on stage. All three of them were trying to get the crowd settled down. After a few minutes, when their audience finally settled, Jack yelled, "Carryin' the banner," and the crowd erupted into a frenzy of elated cheers. Then he launched straight into the purpose of them being gathered together. He brought everyone up to speed on the progress they were making and assured everyone that they weren't going to give up until the prices went back to where they were. He pressed the fact that they had come along way, but they couldn't keep soaking the scabs.

Across from her, Racetrack cracked, "What're we suppose to do to the bums, kiss 'em?"

Tug rolled her eyes. Leave it to Racetrack to say something like that. A lot of the boys, however, seemed to be in agreement with him. What Jack had suggested did not sit well with a lot of the newsies in the room; Spot, of course, spoke on behalf of those boys.

"Any scab I see, I soak 'em. Period."

This was received with an uproar of approval. David tried to talk sense, but even Spot wasn't listening to him.

"Ain't nobody gonna listen to us, unless we make 'em," Spot added, knowing that he had support.

The crowd erupted, arguing with one another. Skittery and Specs were yelling across the stage at some newsies who were siding with Spot. Some kid behind Tug was giving her an unwanted earful about what he thought was right.

"Shut up!" she hollered, shoving him. "Shut up and just listen to Jack. It ain't worth it."

Jack got the boys settled down again and was able to bring everything into prospective, even though it was basically what David had been trying to tell them. Jack just had a way of relating it to the newsies, something that David never seemed to be able to do. He gave such an inspiring little speech that Blink couldn't resist shouting,

"Tell 'em, Jack!"

"We're with ya, Jack," Racetrack added for good measure.

It was only natural for all of the Manhattan newsies to stand behind their leader. It seemed the rest of New York now waited to hear Spot's take on the matter.

"So, what about you, Spot?" Jack asked, challenging the Brooklyn leader with his stare.

Spot smirked. "I say that what you say, is what I say."

In good, old fashion newsboy tradition, the two borough leaders sealed the deal with a spit-shake, and as their hands met the crowd exploded with cheers once again. Everyone appeared to be back in the business of striking.

The loud cheers suddenly turned thunderous when the curtains pulled open and Medda waltzed out onto the stage. Every boy in the auditorium lept to his feet, whistling, hollering, and waving his cap for the Swedish Meadowlark.

Tug laughed to herself as she watched Racetrack practically throw himself on stage. Once again, it was apparent that these boys were absolutely smitten with this woman. Tug couldn't help but smile as she enjoyed the spectacle, noticing that even Skittery wore a broad grin.

As the song wound down, some of the boys jumped up on the stage, waving and blowing kisses to the audience. Specs and Skittery pulled a rather reluctant Tug up alongside them as they cheered loudly. As Tug clapped, she could feel the energy pulsating through the crowd as everyone was making as much noise as humanly possible.

It took only a split second, however, to destroy that joyful atmosphere and send every single person into a panicked chaos. The shrill blasts of whistles signaled the arrival of the bulls, which caused everyone in the theater to flee for the exits. Policemen stormed the auditorium from every direction, trying to get their hands on anyone within reach.

With wide eyes, Tug scrambled from the stage. Skittery was close behind her.

"Ya gotta get outta here," he said urgently, pushing her toward a possible exit.

Just as he was about to rip the curtains aside, two bulls came tearing through them. Trying to change direction swiftly, Skittery grabbed Tug's arm to pull her away, but one of the men caught her by the elbow. After a swift kick to the shin the bull let go and the two of them scurried to the next possible escape route.

"Tug?" Skittery yelled when she suddenly let go of his hand.

Without looking back, Tug raced toward Tumbler. One of the bulls was holding the boy clear off the ground, trying to wrestle him into submission, but Tumbler was putting up a good fight, kicking and fighting with everything he had. Tug couldn't watch this happen without trying to help.

Nearing the man, Tug stomped down hand on his foot. As the pain shot up his leg, he dropped the little newsy, but tried to regain his hold as Tug helped Tumbler to his feet. They brushed away his groping hands and whisked away.

Skittery grabbed Tumbler by the back of his shirt and Tug by the hand. He pushed the two of them into the corridor.

"Beat it," he instructed, turning back to the madness.

"Wait!" Tug cried, grabbing his arm. "Yer not comin'?"

"I gotta help Jack," he insisted, pushing them further into the hallway. "Just go! If ya get caught, they'll send ya to the Refuge. Take Tumbler with ya, alright? You two can't get caught!" And with one last pressing look, he bolted off toward Jack and David.

The thought of being caught and sent to Refuge shed new light on the idea of escaping. Skittery was right, she could not get caught. There just had to be some way out of the theater. Catching hold of Tumbler's coat, she hurried him down the long hallway. Thankfully, most of the bulls they came across were already occupied with someone else.

Tug pulled Tumbler around the corner and they collided with another pair of bodies.

It was Sarah and Les.

"They've got that way blocked!" Sarah said, looking completely terrified.

"This way then," Tug suggested, jerking her head toward a door that they had passed by.

The four of them raced back up the hallway. Getting to it first, Les pulled on the doorknob.

"Locked!" he groaned.

"Quick!" Tug urged, leading them further down the way.

They all came skidding to a halt when Morris Delancey stepped into their path. His lip curled into a delighted, sinister grin. Sarah shrieked and clung onto Tug for protection. In a split second two things jumped into Tug's mind: Sarah really wants_ me _to protect her? And, oh right, I'm the boy; she expects me to.

Cursing under her breath, Tug stepped forward. _Well, here goes nothing, _she thought.

Tug had socked Morris once before so it really wasn't much of a personal shock when she managed to do it again. Tumbler offered his help by kicking Morris sharply in the shin. Keeled over in pain, he was easy enough to push to the ground; Les gave him one last kick for good measure before they continued down the hall.

It was then that something caught Tug's eye as they ran passed. She had an idea. It might be their only way out.


	13. Refuge

Chapter 13: Refuge

"In here," Tug ordered, propping open the door.

"That's the girl's bathroom," Les whined, looking completely mortified by the idea of entering the sacred dominion.

Tug rolled her eyes. Was he really worried about that, at a time like this? In one foul swoop, she snagged both Les and Tumbler by the arm and shoved them inside. Sarah followed willingly.

As she suspected, there was a window against the opposite wall. Wasting no time, Tug hurried over and threw it open. She poked her head out to investigate their whereabouts. It led to a dark, deserted alleyway. The drop to the ground wouldn't be terrible, besides this seemed to be their only option. Pulling her head back in, she turned to the others and said,

"This leads to the alley and there ain't nobody out there. It ain't too far to the ground, so we should be able to jump."

The other nodded their agreement; Tumbler volunteered to go first. Tug gave him a leg up. He lept from the windowsill and landed, catlike, on the pavement below. Les followed likewise, hopping from the ledge. When the two of them were out of sight, Tug looked back at Sarah, uncertain of who should go next_. Ladies first_, Tug thought, giving Sarah the go ahead nod. Sarah shook her head.

"What?" Tug hissed, slightly annoyed.

"You go first and then you can catch me at the bottom," Sarah replied.

Complying, Tug turned toward the window and rolled her eyes. Swinging a leg over, she straddled the ledge for a moment to gain some balance before kicking over the other leg and dropping neatly in front of the two boys.

She looked back up toward the window, waiting for Sarah to emerge. One by one the other girl's legs appeared through the window. Tug wondered how she was going to catch her. There was no time to think, because Sarah pushed off from the ledge and fell toward earth. Tug didn't really catch her, but instead, helped to steady her when she landed. With that done and over with, the four of them sprinted toward the back of the theater.

Big mistake.

No sooner had they rounded the corner, then they were met by two bulls slinking from the shadows, blocking their escape. Hurriedly, the four of them switched directions, running along the alley that paralleled the back of the theater. The policemen shouted after them and, from the sound of their heavy footsteps, started chasing after them. Tug knew the bulls were gaining ground; she had to make a quick decision or they all would be caught.

Tug slowed, yelling for the others to keep running. When they were all in front of her, she came to dead halt and, ducking low, ran between the two officers while their momentum carried them passed her. She picked up her sprint, glancing back to see them bumble about for a moment when they both turned to pursue her. Then suddenly, as she hadn't been paying attention, she ran right smack into something solid. She stumbled backwards and landed hard on the ground.

Wincing, she looked up into the face of one rather pleased Delancey brother. She was hustled to her feet as one of the officers grabbed her arms and restrained her. She scowled at the newsies' nemesis, trying to fight away from her captor.

Morris Delancey didn't waste the opportunity to seek vengeance for her hit on him earlier. His fist connected with her stomach; Tug's breath shot from her body as she doubled over in pain, eyes watering, and feeling as if her organs might come spilling out onto the pavement. With her being temporarily immobile, the officer dragged her to front of the theater where a wagon was waiting to take the rebellious children away.

She was thrown inside a wagon that was packed with boys. Clutching her stomach, she leaned against the side and glanced around at the others, hoping to find a familiar face. She found one, but it didn't make her feel any better; it was that slimy kid, Leech, from Queens. Holding her head in her hands as the wagon moved, Tug tried hard not to let her imagination run wild as she thought about where they were headed.

---

"Where ya from?" growled the tall, burly police officer, who had her by the collar. He was her escort from the wagon to the building.

"What?" she grumbled. Her shaky knees were making it difficult to walk.

"I said," he repeated slowly, giving her a shake. "Where ya from?"

"Ma-Manhattan," she replied quickly, her eyes darting around the blank walls as they entered the building.

"Another one for Manhattan," he declared, shoving her into the clutches of another officer.

He walked her a short way down the corridor, stopping in front of a heavily locked door. Wrenching it open, he threw Tug unceremoniously inside. She stumbled across the floor, catching herself on one of the bunks that lined the room.

Inside the room, the occupants were a little shocked by her arrival. When they realized that she was one of them, her name echoed around the room. And then, naturally, the questions followed.

"What happened to ya?"

"Hey, ya seen Jack?"

"How'd they get ya?"

"Ya seen Davey?"

Still clutching the end of the bed, Tug shook her head. "No, I ain't seen neither of 'em. I was with Tumbler, Les, and Sarah when the bulls got me."

"Where's Tumbler?" Skittery asked, well aware that the two of them had been together.

"He got away. I think..." she replied. Then she recounted the events of their escape and her eventual capture. When she concluded her little narrative, she surveyed the battered boys that surrounded her and asked, "Everybody else alright?"

They all nodded, but it looked to her that the bulls had really worked a number on some of them. She had no doubt in her mind that by tomorrow morning some of their bruises would rival hers. Having finished her explanation, she moved to sit in an empty space along the wall.

"How long they gonna keep us here?" she asked, the thought just entering her mind.

"They're keepin' us 'til tomorrow. We're gonna see a judge in the morning so they can figure out what to do with us. Can ya believe it? All this for a lousy rally!" Mush explained, outraged.

Tug suddenly felt as though she had been punched in the stomach again. Her breath caught in her chest, her eyes widened, and her hands began to shake; she couldn't stay here all night. She had to get home to her mother - what if she needed her?

Wringing her hands in her lap, Tug tried desperately to fight back the tears, but she failed miserably. Every that had happened in the last few hours seemed to come to a head at that moment: the distress she felt when she saw those girls, the pain and fear of being chased by the bulls, and now the reality of being locked away without knowing what would come next. Her world just came crashing down around her.

One by one, tears trickled down her cheeks. She could feel every pair of eyes watching her uncontrollable emotion spill forth. She didn't care; they could think what they wanted. Everything that she had been carrying around inside her needed a release, and this was the only way she knew how. Burying her face in her knees, she tried to block out reality as she sobbed.

After a few minutes, someone put a hand on her shoulder and Skittery's voice broke through her blockade.

"Hey, come on, kid. It'll be alright," he assured her.

She shook her head.

"What's the matter with him?" Blink asked as all the boys looked on curiously, wondering the same thing.

"Should I tell 'em?" Skittery asked, squeezing her shoulder.

"Tell us what?" Racetrack wondered aloud.

Without lifting her head, Tug nodded. They may as well know. Taking in a deep breath, she readied herself for their reaction.

"Look fellas, ya know how Tug's always talkin' about Gloria? Well," Skittery continued after they all confirmed with a nod. "Gloria ain't who ya think she is."

"Huh?" Mush said, screwing up his face in confusion. They were all looking around at one another, baffled by what Skittery was telling them.

"Who is she then?"

"His mother - she's real sick. That's why he don't stick around too often. He's gotta take care of her," Skittery explained.

"How d'ya know all this?" Specs cut in.

"He told me, alright? Gawd," Skittery said, annoyed, closing that subject quickly. "Does it really matter? Look, I'm only tellin' ya this so ya know what's the matter. It ain't gonna be good for him if we get sent to the Refuge."

"How come ya never told us, huh, Tug?" Mush asked.

"You don't talk about yer family none, so why should he? It's his business, ain't it?" Skittery snapped.

Listening quietly, Tug had calmed down considerably. She marveled at the fact that he hadn't told them that she was a girl, because she kept waiting for it. Sniffling, she peeked up over her arm. Sympathetic faces looked back at her.

"Alright, alright. Look, I'm real sorry about yer Ma, Tug," Mush said quietly, eyeing Skittery cautiously. A chorus of similar condolences followed.

"Thanks fellas," she mumbled, giving them a feeble smile. It was a bit of a relief to have them know about her mother, but still didn't change the situation.

All of the sudden the room went dark; it was lights out. This shifted the boys attention and talk eventually found its way to other subjects, like where Jack and David were. Tug stayed curled up against the wall with her knees tucked under her chin. Her tears were gone, but her worries remained, leaving her a little shaky. There was one thought that clouded her mind: why didn't Skittery tell them she was a girl? It would give her something to think during the night.

Knowing that Skittery hadn't moved from her side, Tug turned her head slightly and whispered softly, "Thanks."

She flinched when in a silent response his hand found hers.


	14. Secrets

Chapter 14: Secrets

It was a long, restless night for Tug. With so many things running through her head, she stayed awake long after the boys' soft snoring filled the room - holding onto Skittery's hand until it slipped away when she finally did close her eyes.

All too soon, they were roused from their uncomfortable slumber by an explosion of noise. An officer stood at the door banging against the wall and shouting for them to wake up. Tug's eyes popped open and she could hear groans of protests from all around. When they officer moved on, it only took a second of sleepy confusion for her to realize the thing she was leaned against was breathing.

She quickly sat up, stretching her stiff limbs. Yawning, Tug looked down at Skittery. He was still asleep. She marveled at this feat; most everyone else was awake. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Tug gave him a nudge.

"Nah, that ain't gonna do it," explained Specs, peering over the edge of a top bunk. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, "Skittery!"

A hand shot out from the bottom bunk and thwacked Skittery over the head. It had done the trick, because Skittery sat up quickly, mumbling sleepily,

"What? I didn't do it."

All the boys chuckled. Amused, Tug watched the little routine develop. She tried to stifle a giggle at the result, but didn't manage so well.

"What're ya laughin' at?" Skittery muttered, shoving her gently.

"Nothin'." Tug chuckled, taking a look around the room.

Most of the boys were still trying to regain consciousness, looking around blearily. Their hair was sticking out a odd angles, making them look completely out of sorts, and slightly deranged. It was quite a sight to behold, but she soon realized if that was what they looked like, she wouldn't be much better. So, doing the best she could, she ran her fingers through her hair and stuffed her hat on.

It wasn't long before a team of bulls arrived to escort them to the trial, the place where their fate would be determined. Tug felt her stomach churning as both she and Boots were grabbed by the same officer and pulled from the room. Their little caravan moved quickly through the hallways of the jail and out to where the wagons were waiting. The boys were piled inside until there was hardly any room to move.

It seemed that word had gotten out about the arrests at the rally, because the street in front of the courthouse was filled with the newsboys, likely those who had eluded capture. They filled the air with a buzz of protests as the wagons pulled in. The newsies were quickly unloaded and herded, like cattle, into a gated area inside the courtroom.

Looking all high and mighty as he was announced, the judge strolled into the room. He had an aura of strictness about him as he eyed up the rabble from his position of power.

"Are any of you boys represented by council?" No one answered; they had no idea what he was talking about. "No? Good. That will move things along considerably."

Tug scowled. She could tell the judge didn't want to hear what they had to say. They hadn't even broken any laws, as far as she knew. He just wanted things quick and simple. After all, to him they were simply a bunch of kids who had nowhere else to go but back on the street; sending them to the Refuge would remedy that situation for a while.

"Hey, yer honor. I object!" Spot called out.

"On what grounds?" the judge asked, staring down at him with a hard expression.

"On the grounds of Brooklyn, yer honor," Spot retorted with a sly grin, causing the other boys to burst out laughing.

Tug closed her eyes, annoyed. They were just going to make things worse by saying stupid things like that. Sometimes they just didn't think things all the way through before opening their mouths. Looking back up at the judge, Tug saw him sneering down at Spot and she could tell he was deliberating their sentence.

"I fine each of you five dollars or two weeks confinement in the House of Refuge," he ordered.

Tug gasped audibly. She could never pay that fine; it was too much. She couldn't do two weeks at the Refuge either. Her mother would never make it two days, let alone two weeks, without her. Tug felt her heart racing, unable to think of a way out of this.

"Whoa! We ain't got five bucks. We ain't even got five cents." Racetrack spoke up in their defense. "Hey, yer honor. How 'bout I roll ya for it? Double or nothing?"

The judged looked down on them, not amused. He cracked his mallet against the wooden panel. "Move along. Move along."

Tug blanched; she couldn't believe it. She was going to the Refuge. A lump rose in her throat as she thought of her mother - how worried she had to be when she realized Tug hadn't made it home last night, and how it would destroy her mother's already fading health when she didn't return at all. That same overwhelming rise of emotion that she had felt last night returned and Tug thought she might collapse right then and there, but then something happened that relieved all her anxiety.

Bryan Denton, the newspaper reporter, had entered the courtroom, offering to pay all of their fines. It was very generous of him; five dollars a boy was a lot of money, more than any of them would ever see. Tug stared at Denton as he handed over the money. She choked back the tears that came with the realization of what he was doing for them. There was no reason to worry any more; she would be home soon.

There was some commotion which shook her from her daze. Jack was being shown into the room, followed closely by Snyder, the warden at the Refuge. Snyder seemed very keen on getting Jack back into the custody of his establishment as he explained Jack's situation to the judge.

It seemed Tug wasn't the only newsie with a secret. Jack had one as well; he wasn't exactly who he claimed be either. His name wasn't even Jack Kelly. Some of the boys seemed surprise by this discovery as whispers broke out in group. But, with a secret of her own, Tug couldn't pass judgement on Jack; he must have had his reasons for not telling them the truth, same as her. It came as an even bigger shock when Jack was unable to benefit from Denton's charity; his sentence put him back in the Refuge until he turned twenty-one.

Back out on the street, disheartened by Jack's arrest, they slowly made their way to Tibby's. Denton had asked that they meet him there; he needed to talk to them about something. Tug was not planning to stick around; someone could always fill her in later. All she wanted to do was get home to her mother.

Slowing down her pace, Tug found her way to the back of the procession, hoping to steal away when the opportunity presented itself. Her actions, however, did not go unnoticed.

"You wanna go home, don't ya?" Skittery said, falling in step beside her.

"Yeah," Tug replied, glancing sideways at him. "She's gotta be real worried by now."

He nodded. "Yeah, you should go then. I'll meet up with ya later and let ya know what's happenin' next, alright?"

Tug smiled; she appreciated his understanding of the situation. Taking a quick look at the others to make sure they were well ahead, Tug stopped and grabbed Skittery's arm so that he would stop walking as well. Pursing her lip, she chose her words carefully.

"How come ya didn't tell the others 'bout me bein'...ya know?" she asked quietly.

Skittery shrugged. "I ain't for me to tell. Yer gonna have to do it - when the time is right."

Tug nodded; then smiled. "Thanks, Skittery."

"Now, get outta here," he said, gently pushing her away. "I'll see ya later."

Without another thought, Tug turned and ran.


	15. Ma

Chapter 15: Ma

Tug knew it was impossible to open the apartment door quietly; it always stuck and needed a solid shove to make an entrance. Still she tried her best to enter noiselessly, hoping that maybe, just maybe, her mother was still asleep - but when the door would not budge, Tug had no choice but to throw her weight against it, wrenching the door open. Falling through the doorway, Tug was greeted by a shriek of surprised relief.

"Claire!" cried her mother, who was curled up on the sofa, buried under a couple of blankets. It was obvious just by looking that it had been a difficult night for her. It was evident in her puffy, bloodshot eyes, which glistened with fresh tears at the sight of her daughter, home safe.

"Ma?" Tug blinked. She was so surprised to see her mother out of bed that for a split second she forgot everything that had happened the previous night at the rally.

"Where have you been?" her mother demanded, her voice cracking as she beckoned her closer.

Tug crossed to the sofa and sat beside her mother, who wrapped a comforting arm around her. Knowing that she had caused her mother to worry, Tug gazed guiltily at the floorboards. She knew she had to explain herself, but she really didn't want to tell her mother that she had just spent the night in jail - it would set her off again and give her more things to worry about when Tug was away, which she didn't need.

"Why didn't you come home last night, Claire?" her mother asked, repeating the question firmly when Tug didn't respond. "I thought something happened to you. I mean, you bein' with all them boys - I could only think the worst... No tellin' what they'd do if they found out you was a girl..." She trailed off; the idea too terrible to say aloud.

"I'm sorry, Ma. I didn't mean to worry ya," Tug apologized hurriedly. She could feel the familiar prickle of tears attacking the backs of her eyes. "It was just the rally..."

She didn't quite know how to explain to her mother what had happened.

"What happened, Claire? I want the truth," her mother insisted, implying that she knew her daughter hadn't been entirely truthful in her other stories.

Sighing, Tug launched into the story, giving her mother a full, detailed account of last night's events. Her tale was complete with escaping from the bulls, being captured by the bulls, the night in jail, the courthouse, and the miracle provided by Denton. Tug watched carefully as her mother's face went through many expressions during her explanation, hoping to pick up on the overall reaction she was going to receive.

"So, ya see, Ma, none of fellas know I'm a girl," Tug said, concluding her tale with some reassurance. "And Skittery ain't gonna tell nobody."

"Well," her mother said with a huff, looking thoroughly displeased. "It ain't gonna matter who he tells, 'cause as far as I'm concerned, yer finished with this newsy business, ya hear? I don't know why I agreed to it in the first place. All it's brought is trouble! When I think of what could have happened to you..."

"But, Ma!" Tug started to protest, but was quickly cut off.

"And don't think I believed one word of that cock-and-bull story about how you came across that black eye," she added, grabbing Tug's face to inspect the yellowish remains of the bruise. "It takes more than a flailing arm to get a bruise like that."

"But we need the money!" Tug stressed, brushing her mother's hand away impatiently. "What're we gonna do then, huh?"

It could have been that she was emotional from lack of sleep, but Tug never expected she would be annoyed, almost angry, at her mother on this occasion. The feeling, however, was unavoidable considering what her mother was asking - no - telling her to do. The newsies had become a part of her life - a difficult part in some ways, but she had accustomed to her life as a newsboy and, in many ways, enjoyed it. As Tug, she experienced a whole new side of herself - things that she never would have learned she hadn't been a newsy.

Never in her wildest dreams would she had thought she would be involved in two big brawls, fight with boys, get punched in the face, be chased by the police, spend the night in jail, or be a small part of something like the newsies' strike. She had even made a few friends, and none of it would have happened to her as a girl - as plain, old Claire. If she wasn't a newsy - if she simply went back to being Claire - then she would be losing everything from that world, everything she had become.

It wasn't something she was ready to give up just yet.

"We've got enough to get by for a couple weeks, I think. Besides, I'm startin' to feel better. I reckon I'll be back workin' in a week or so, then we can get back to the way things used to be before all this nonsense." She sighed, noting the frown on her daughter's face. "I just... I just don't want anything to happen to you - yer all I got."

Gazing at her mother's pleading expression, Tug suddenly felt very selfish. She was torn between her two worlds, uncertain of how to handle the mixed feelings she had. On one hand, Tug didn't want to do anything that would hurt her mother, especially if her health was improving, but at the same time, she couldn't just up and vanish from this other life she was leading - she didn't want to. She would have to figure something out - soon.


	16. Mirror

Chapter 16: Mirror

It was kind of awkward, and really, it shouldn't have been. It wasn't like she had never done it before. In fact, it should have been normal for her, but funny enough - it didn't feel that way. It felt utterly ridiculous, _she_ felt utterly ridiculous, and with good reason.

Insisting that Tug go wash up, her mother further instructed her to 'put on some proper clothes' when she finished. Keeping the request in mind, Tug rummaged through the wardrobe trying to find something worthy to be worn. With thoughts of the dressy girls from the rally still turning in her mind, Tug figured if she was going to wear a dress, then she may as well wear something nice, look the part.

So after a good washing and feeling refreshed, Tug pulled the chosen dress over her head. It felt a little funny; she wasn't confined by the tight fabric of her trousers - in fact, her bare legs felt very exposed underneath her skirt. Her shoulders felt unusually free without the pressure from her suspenders pulling down on them.

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Tug stepped sideways in front of the long mirror. She had tried on a countless number of dresses in front of that mirror, always turning and looking at every angle so that she could admire her mother's handiwork. An image of herself doing just that popped into her head as she took that step, but when she opened her eyes the image instantly dissolved as she stared at the unrecognizable figure that was reflected back at her.

Blinking as if it were some mistake, Tug leaned forward, scrutinizing her appearance. She realized very quickly that simply putting on a dress would not be enough to make her look the way she once did. Reaching up a hand, she smoothed down her hair, trying to work it into a more appealing style, but with a grimace, she knew nothing would help. And after a few different arrangements she gave up completely.

With her nose practically touching the glass, Tug surveyed the yellowish-brown patch around her eye. She had become quite proud of it; it was a badge of honor that symbolized their action against Pulitzer and his unfair price increase. Looking at it now, however, it looked like nothing more than the ugly blemish it was, disfiguring her face. She slapped a hand over top of it to cover it up, but a few seconds later she let her hand slide away. What did it matter? Her hair was already offensively short; the bruise wouldn't really be her most shocking attribute.

As she stood there looking over herself, she realized that at that very moment she was looking at her two worlds meshed into one. From the neck down, she looked very much like the girl she truly was, but from the neck up, she saw all the remnants of the boy she was pretending to be. Tug stuck her tongue out at herself in a childish attempt to deal with what she was seeing; she hated it.

It had been foolish of her to think that when she opened her eyes, she would be looking at the same girl she used to be, but too much had changed - she had changed. Slowly it started to sink in that this was not only in appearance.

Resigning to the fact that she would get nothing accomplished by standing in front of the mirror all day, Tug rejoined her mother in the front room.

"Oh, sweetheart," her mother said with a sigh, smiling softly. "Ya look so beautiful."

Tug blinked, stunned by the gush of motherly affection. The last thing she wanted to hear was that she looked beautiful, because, based on what she had seen in the mirror, she felt it was far from the truth; of course she knew her mother was only trying to encourage her.

"Thanks, Ma," she replied with a forced smile, trying to not look distracted. She took the opportunity to steer the conversation in a different direction. "You hungry?"

Her mother nodded; Tug went to the cupboards and pulled out bread. There was only a single slice left. She suddenly remembered that she was supposed to pick up groceries yesterday, but with so many other things on her mind, she had forgotten. Sure enough, when she looked in the ice box for the milk, it was near empty. Groaning, she turned to announce their situation.

"I forgot to stop at the store yesterday. We ain't got nothing."

"Why don't ya just go now?" her mother suggested.

"Yeah, alright," Tug agreed. "I'll just go change then."

"Oh, don't bother with that. Yer a young lady - go be one for a change."

With the subject closed for argument, Tug left the apartment to go 'be a young lady'. As she walked down the three flights of stairs to ground level, a peculiar feeling crept over her; not since her first day as a newsy had Tug felt as nervous about walking the streets of Manhattan as she did now.


	17. Slip

Chapter 17: Slip

The nervous feeling that she had settled like a giant rock in the pit of her stomach as she weaved her way through the crowded city streets. Being as it was late in the afternoon many people were out and about, tying up loose ends before nightfall. Tug had mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, it could be helpful because it would be easier for her to get lost in the crowd, if needed. On the other hand, with so many people milling about it would be easy to overlook the ones that she was on high alert for.

Feeling the need to be extra cautious had heightened her sense of awareness; her eyes darted back and forth, hoping to catch sight of any newsboys that might be lingering nearby. Although she hadn't spotted any newsies, she was taking notice of some other interesting ongoings around her - such as the curious stares that followed her as she passed; a small group of girls even had the nerve to blatantly point at her and giggle. Tug felt her face warm as it colored with embarrassment.

Leaving the apartment so quickly, she never even considered the attention her nontraditional looks might attract; she would have at least worn a hat had she thought things through more carefully. The more Tug thought about it, the more she understood their reaction; she had never known - or ever seen, for that matter - a girl with hair cut as short as hers. It was custom for girls to wear their hair long, either pulled up or plaited. She had to admit that had it been someone else walking on the street, she would probably be snickering too. As it was, she was the one being gawked at and she wasn't in the least bit enjoying it.

Avoiding the stares of the onlookers, Tug continued on her way, ignoring the shame that pulled at her heart.

A small wave of relief washed over her when she finally made it to the market; though she could still feel eyes watching her, she knew once her task was complete she would be able to return home.

Perusing the barrels of fruit on a nearby stand, Tug let her mind wander back to the events from earlier that day. She wondered what Denton had wanted to talk to them about. It seemed important because he asked them to go directly to Tibby's after the hearing; whatever it was probably had to do with the strike, as he was in on all their plans. It was silly to let her thoughts dwell on the matter, because she wouldn't know until Skittery filled her in. It was then that another thought occurred to her; Skittery never said when they would meet or where. This worried her for a moment before she realized that he knew where she lived and could always drop by.

As she checked the apples for bruises, a series of questions concerning the strike ran through her mind. Some changes would have to be made now that Jack was locked up in the Refuge. He had been their leader from the start; he had sparked the whole movement. How were they going to carry on without him? Maybe someone else would step into the role or, perhaps, the whole thing would just dissolve into a distant memory and they would give in to the raised price. Hopefully these were some of the things they had discussed at Tibby's. Tug was just going to have to wait until Skittery came around to tell her, whenever that might be.

Actually, come to think of it, did all this really matter to her anymore? Didn't her mother just tell her that she couldn't be a newsy. Whatever their decisions were, Tug was not going to be a part of it. She didn't have to worry herself with it.

She wasn't a newsy anymore...

That thought hit like a speeding train, blindsiding her. It was something that was very difficult to come to terms with, but there was no way around it. Her mother had been quite clear on the subject and wasn't likely to change her mind; she only had Tug's best interest at heart, after all. Still, Tug couldn't help racking her brain for an idea, anything that might work in her favor, but nothing worthy cropped up; if she left the apartment dressed in newsy clothes, her mother would know what she was up to, and Tug couldn't exactly sell newspapers dressed as a girl - a girl newsy was nearly as ridiculous as a girl with boy's haircut. In the end, Tug found she had no choice but to respect her mother's decision.

With everything racing through her mind, Tug was amazed she had managed to correctly purchase all the items she had set out for. There was only one thing left for her to get - bread. So, Tug set off for the bakery, carrying a number of brown packages in her arms.

Just as she was nearing the corner, she caught sight of something that caused her heart to skip a beat. Across the street, huddled at the start of an alley was a small group of boys - boys that she recognized as fellow newsies. Blink, Racetrack, Boots, David, and Les all seemed to be waiting for something, or someone, because Blink kept looking out over top of passersby.

Instinctively, Tug walked faster; the bakery was just within her sights. She would feel safer after she slipped inside the small shop, away from Blink's roaming eye. Wanting to be certain that the boys remained a good distance from her, Tug looked back over her shoulder; this little maneuver - a quick pave and a distracted eye - never seemed to work to her advantage, because seconds later she had barreled into someone. The packages she had been carrying spilled from her arms and scattered all over the sidewalk.

Stooping to retrieve the fallen items before they were trampled, Tug muttered an apology to the victim of her distracted eye. A pair of hands helped in collecting the goods; grateful for the assistance, Tug raised her eyes to give him a proper look and felt her breath catch in her throat. All her insides had suddenly shriveled up at the sight of a familiar face. She tried to remain calm as she straightened up, but her knees continued to wobble beneath her.

"You alright?" Mush asked with a soft smile, handing her the rest of the packages.

As her throat had constricted, she had no voice for speech; instead Tug looked at him out of the corner of her eye and gave a small nod. Any moment now, Mush would realize who she was; as his eyes widened, Tug closed her own, preparing for the shout of exclamation and the questions that would accompany his discovery.

"I didn't do that, did I?" he breathed, his eyes flooding with concern.

Tug popped her eyes back open, narrowing them with confusion. She croaked, "What?"

He raised a hand, pointing at her face.

Reaching up to touch the bruise around her eye, one of the packages slipped through Tug's arms. Not taking any notice of this, Tug eyed him suspiciously before answering - did he really not recognize her? It seemed that he didn't; his expression was of pure concern, not that of shock and confusion.

"Oh, no. It happened at while back," she explained, giving him a faint smile and looking away. "I'm a bit clumsy."

Mush grinned, looking relieved. "Here's this," he said, setting the escaped package on top of the others. "Ya got it?"

"Yeah," Tug said. And then before she ever had a chance to stop herself, she added, "Thanks, Mush."

Instantly she realized her blunder and gave small horrified gasp. Mush's eyebrows soared with confusion.

"Do I know you?" he asked, eyeing her curiously.

Tug grasped for some sort of explanation.

"Well, no. Not exactly," she started, still thinking of what she could possibly say to smooth this over. "We've never met properly. I'm Claire."

She shifted the packages to extend a hand, her mind still working on a reason for knowing his name. This was a true test of her ability to cover up her mistakes, something she had become rather good at over the last couple of months. Then, as he accepted her handshake, an idea formulated.

"I'm a friend of Skittery's. He talks 'bout you boys so much, I feel like I know ya." She gave him a wide smile, hoping to sell the story. "The other night, he showed me yer picture in the newspaper so I could put yer names with faces."

"Skittery?" Mush's jaw dropped slightly, but quickly recovered. "You must be the girl he was with a couple of nights ago!"

Tug nodded, hardly daring to believe that he was falling for the story. She gave a small shrug and asked, trying to look more flattered than nauseous, "He's mentioned me?"

"Yeah. Well, he wouldn't stay too much 'bout ya." Mush chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck in disbelief. "We actually thought he might've made ya up."

Tug had to bite down on her lip to keep from laughing uneasily. She wanted to end this conversation before Mush caught on to anything, but then an idea sparked.

"D'ya think you could do me a favor?" He nodded. "Will ya tell Skittery I'm lookin' for him? He was supposed to meet me last night but he never turned up."

"Sure," Mush said cheerfully. "You said yer name was Claire, right?"

Nodding, Tug thanked him and they went their separate ways. Trying to keep her cool, she didn't look back at him, but walked as calmly as her wobbly knees would let her. When she reached the bakery, a disbelieving rush of air escaped her lips; there was no way that story actually worked, was there? She and Mush had been selling partners for a week or two before the strike, so if anyone was going to recognized her it would be him, but he hadn't. Was he really that naive? It simply made no sense.

When she left the bakery, Tug decided it would be best to continue in the direction away from where she had seen the boys. She did not need to cross their path again if she could avoid it. So, keeping a wary eye out for more newsies and carefully balancing the packages as best she could, Tug slowly made her way back home.

Finally, Tug reached the long alley that would take her to her apartment building. It was the quickest way to get there, but definitely not the safest, considering that she wasn't in disguise. She didn't care; it would be away from the crowds, away from the stares, and it would take less time. Checking her surroundings just to be certain, Tug took a deep breath of confidence and plunged in between the buildings.

Once again another unfamiliar feeling swept her over - fear. It was unfamiliar in the context, because she walked this path every single day, though it was in different shoes. Tug was very well aware of just how unpredictable this city could be. From reading the papers, she knew all about what happened to unsuspecting girls who wandered into alleyways all alone. The thought caused a shiver to run icily down her spine.

Why did the horrible thoughts have to crop up in her mind right then? Especially, when she was trying very hard to listen for suspicious noises and concentrate on a nice steady pace.

With all those terrifying ideas circling her head, it wasn't any wonder that she screamed loudly when someone came up from behind her and grabbed her elbow. Instinctively she dropped her groceries and sent her fists flying. She was not going to be a story in tomorrow's newspaper, not if she could help it.


	18. Girl

Chapter 18: Girl

David had told them all to meet on Sixth Street near Bryant Park, so that was where Skittery was headed. The plan was to break Jack out of the Refuge - tonight. In reality, there was no actual plan for what they were about to do; a group of them, led by David, were going to the Refuge with the hopes that they wouldn't get caught in the process. Sure it was dangerous, and maybe David had a plan up his sleeve, but either way they couldn't just leave Jack. They had to get him out.

Huddled in a tight circle, the others were just within his sight. As he trudged toward them, Skittery caught Blink's eye and gave him a nod. Blink nudged Mush and must have announced his arrival because they all turned to look at him, each with a huge grin stretched across their face.

"Hey, fellas," he said lightly, ignoring the strange looks. Why were they all acting so odd? They should be focused on the task ahead.

"So - uh - Skittery, I just ran into yer girl," Mush said, wiggling his eyebrows, "literally."

Racetrack pulled his cigar from his mouth and poked Skittery in the shoulder. "You wasn't makin' it up then, huh? Ya really got yerself a girl."

"What?" Skittery replied, raising a single eyebrow as they all peered at him, smirking knowingly. He had no idea what they were on about.

"Skittery's got a girlfriend," Blink teased, punching at him playfully.

Skittery blinked a few times, flabbergasted by their accusations. The only girl he had been around lately was Tug, but they didn't even know she was a girl. "What're you guys talkin' about? I ain't got a girl."

Mush chuckled and replied matter-of-factly, "No use hidin' the facts, buddy boy. I met her myself just a few minutes ago."

"Who?" Skittery demanded, shaking his head with confusion.

"Claire," Blink said in a disgustingly syrupy tone, batting his eyelashes. The other boys laughed.

Skittery's jaw went slack; that was the last name he had expected to hear. Claire? As in Tug, Claire? There was no way it could have been her; they would have recognized her if it had been.

"Yeah, Claire," Mush agreed, nodding vigorously as he seconded Blink's statement when Skittery didn't reply. "She and I kinda collided on the street."

"Yer sure her name was Claire?" Skittery asked, puzzled by the whole situation.

Mush nodded confidently. "Yeah. I mean, she's got real short hair, right? I don't expect no other girl looks like that. She's even got a black eye too. Does that sound like yer girl, Skittery?"

Skittery nodded slowly, bewildered. It couldn't have been anyone else; no other girl in the city fit that description.

"Yeah, that's her, but she ain't exactly my girl," he said, trying to explain, but then something occurred to him. "How d'ya find out she knew me?"

"She called me by name," Mush said with a shrug. "Said you'd been tellin' her 'bout us, showin' her the picture and everything."

"Yeah, Skitts," Racetrack added with a smirk, throwing his arm around Skittery's shoulders. "It's real touchin' to know we mean so much to ya. I mean, showin' yer girl our picture and all."

Scowling as the other boys chuckled, Skittery shrugged him off. He hated being teased about things like that.

"She ain't my girl!" he grumbled uselessly.

It was quite clear that Tug had done the job of covering up her run in with Mush by feeding him some story. Most of what she had told them was true, but it was twisted in a way that suited her needs. Skittery couldn't help but think it was lucky that she had caught Mush alone; there was no telling if the story would have worked on all of them. Racetrack, in particular, had a pretty sharp eye when it came to remembering faces.

"Ya know," Mush said, looking thoughtful. "I think I've seen her somewhere before. I ain't she where though."

"Ya probably have," Skittery replied quickly, giving a shrug. "She lives over near yer sellin' spot. She's probably bought a pape off ya a couple of times or something."

That wasn't a complete lie either, Tug did live over that way; chances were good that they had crossed paths even before she had become a newsy.

"So, now that we've got that all worked out, you fellas ready to get Jack?" David asked, anxious to get it over with.

As they set off, the other still wouldn't leave the subject of 'Claire' to rest. They teased Skittery mercilessly and they weren't going to settle with his protests that she wasn't his girl. This went on until Mush suddenly turned on him and said,

"Oh yeah, Skittery, I forgot. Claire wanted me to tell ya she's lookin' for ya. She seemed pretty worried that you never showed up to meet her last night."

"She did?" Skittery replied, thinking that maybe Tug really was worried about something. He did tell her he would meet up with her later, but that was before they decided to break Jack out of the Refuge. Suddenly he didn't know what to do: help rescue Jack or go find Tug. His contemplation over the two must have been evident on his face, because Blink spoke up.

"Look, there's enough of us here to help Jack. You should go. Besides, we don't want ya gettin' in any trouble. I mean, ya know how girls get about that sort of stuff." He winked.

"Alright, yeah. Thanks, fellas," Skittery mumbled after some consideration.

He hated deserting them, but what if Tug really needed him for something. If Mush had met her - as a her - then something had to be wrong; as far as he knew, Tug wouldn't risk being discovered by the other newsies, not if she could help it. Besides, he was the only one who knew Tug's secret, which had been threatening to slip out ever since he discovered it.

It wasn't easy to see her as a boy after he learned she wasn't. He had caught himself a few times before saying 'her' instead of 'him'; it was worse when she was around. And sometimes he hated the fact that he knew her secret, because none of the others had to worry about her the way he did. None of them thought twice about Tug walking through the streets after dark or if she got caught up in another fight - they didn't have to, because to them she was still just one of the boys. It was kind of like how he looked after Tumbler, and yet, it wasn't like that at all.

"See ya back at the lodge then," called Mush with a wave as they parted ways.

"Yeah, don't stay out too late!" Racetrack yelled, chuckling to himself.

"We won't wait up for ya," added Blink as they rounded the corner.

As soon as they were out of sight, Skittery sprinted off down the street.

---

Tug's fists made contact with whatever part of her attacker she could reach - his chest, his face, and his arms - as he tried to restrain her; he grunted every time she landed a blow. She was in such a state of panic that she had just lashed out, almost involuntarily, fighting for her life, and it took her a few minutes to realize that he was shouting something at her - something that sounded a lot like her name.

She faltered when she heard it again; the pause was just long enough from him to overpower her. He got a secure grip on her flailing arms and held them firmly against her body. He gave her a shake, snapping her out of the hysterics that had taken over. When he thought she had finally settled down enough, he let her go. She slumped shakily against the nearest building, clutching at her pounding heart, anger bubbling.

"Gawd, Skittery, what're tryin' to do, huh? You don't sneak up on someone like that! I thought -" she gasped, still trying to calm down, her limbs trembling severely. Her eyebrows, which had been furrowed with frustration, suddenly flew skyward as she glanced over at him, exclaiming, "Yer bleeding!"

Using his sleeve to stem the blood that was dripping from his nose, Skittery shook his head to indicate that it wasn't an issue. "I'll be fine." He smiled apologetically through the flow. "I didn't mean to scare ya."

Seeing the blood seemed to have deflated her anger; it's release came in the form of a sigh as Tug slid down the wall to sit on the pavement. A small grin pulled at her lips now that all her fear had vanished. "You deserve that, ya know? I thought I was bein' attacked - like them girls ya read about in the papes."

Skittery chuckled, wincing at the pain that shot through his face, and pinched his nose between his fingers. "I can promise ya one thing, I ain't never gonna sneak up on ya again."

Still smiling, Tug's gaze wandered to the packages that littered the ground between the two buildings. The food had taken quite a beating after being dropped twice; hopefully none of it would be damaged beyond use. Deciding that it was best to get everything home, Tug heaved herself off the ground. As she brushed off, she was faintly aware of the eyes that were watching her.

"What?" she asked the culprit, who immediately looked away.

"Huh? Nothing," Skittery replied, trying to busy himself by attending to his nosebleed, which had clearly stopped.

Tug felt her cheeks warm, but said nothing more. She bent down to collect her items. Skittery moved to help, which reminded her of the earlier encounter with Mush.

"I take it you got my message from Mush?"

"Yeah," he replied. "I got quite an earful thanks to you." He grinned, teasing. "Nice cover, by the way."

"Sorry. I had to tell him something, didn't I? It was the first thing that came to mind," she said sheepishly. "Did they give you a really hard time?"

"Naturally." He shrugged as the pair of them set off down the alley, packages in hand. "Yer lucky it was just Mush ya ran into, and they call me dumb." He shook his head exasperatedly. "So, why're ya dressed like that anyway?"

"I'm a girl, Skittery, I'm allowed to dress like this. D'ya think I wear trousers all the time?"

Actually, this was the first time she had worn a dress in nearly two months. By the time she got home at night, there was no reason to more clothes, so she never changed, but, of course, Skittery didn't need to know that.

"Well, you should be more careful if ya don't want no one to know."

"I tried to be careful. I went out to get some groceries and thought I could make it to the market and back without being seen - obviously I was wrong. It was a really close call, yeah, but I handled it. I don't think Mush ever caught on," she assured him, not sure why she was bothering to defend herself. What was it to him if the others found out? She decided it was best to change the subject. "So, what's happening with the strike? What did Denton have to say this morning?"

Skittery told her about how Denton had been reassigned to his old job as an ace war correspondent and how a group of the boys were going to rescue Jack from the Refuge.

"I hope they get him out without any trouble," Tug breathed, considering all the potential for danger in their mission.

Their conversation led them all the way to the front door of her building. Tug sighed, realizing there was no way she could invite him in; there was so much more she wanted to talk about, but she knew her mother wouldn't stand for it. After all, Tug was supposed to be done with the newsies and all of their shenanigans. But with one of them standing next to her, she knew that it was not going to be an easy task.


	19. Possibility

Chapter 19: Possibility

Stumbling through the door, Tug expected to find her mother waiting for her, but when she swept the room with her eyes, her mother was nowhere to be found. It wasn't much of a guess as to where she had gone; the apartment wasn't exactly spacious. Her mother's voice called out from the bedroom, reminding Tug that her entrance would never go unnoticed. After calling back, Tug set to work sorting out the groceries and putting them in the appropriate cupboards.

Each item she unwrapped had suffered damage in some way. Fortunately though, nothing was so bad that it had to be thrown away. When everything was put in its place, Tug threw a few things together for dinner and carried it into the bedroom where her mother was reading. She set the plate down beside her mother and joined her on the bed. Reaching over, Tug's mother pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head.

"Thank you, sweetheart," she said tenderly. "How was yer trip to the market?"

Tug shrugged away from her mother's embrace, not quite meeting her eyes when she spoke. "It's a nice evening. There were a lot of people out."

Noting her daughter's distant gaze, Mrs. Connolly asked, "What's wrong, Claire?"

Tug shook her head dismissively, not wanting to make a big deal out of what had happened. She didn't want to concern her mother with the trivial issues that she was dealing with. Anyway, it would be pointless to tell her mother about the run in with Mush and the incident with Skittery in the alleyway; she would never understand all the emotion involved in Tug's world outside of their apartment. But Tug was going to have to tell her something, seeing as her mother's keen eye had picked up on her distress. There was one thing, however, that she felt she could share with her mother - something that hadn't sunk in until now.

"I look absolutely ridiculous, ya know? People ain't used to seein' a girl with such short hair," she explained, hanging her head. "They was starin' at me as I walked by. I heard some of 'em laughin' too. You shoulda just let me change into my trousers."

In an unexpected twist, her mother's face hardened; pursing her lips, she replied sternly, "Young ladies do not wear trousers, Claire. You gotta start actin' like a girl again. I told ya, there's no more need for this newsy nonsense; all it's brought ya is trouble. I mean, yer gettin' roughed up 'cause they think yer a boy, and then you got arrested and nearly sent to prison." Her head shook with disappointment.

"I told ya, Ma. We wasn't doin' anything wrong," Tug replied defensively.

"Claire," Mrs. Connolly said firmly. "There's no need for any more of this. We're gonna be alright from now on without you findin' trouble, okay? You'll get to be yerself again - you should be happy about that. And don't worry about yer hair none; it'll grow back and you'll be as lovely as ever."

Tug forced a smile, though she felt like bursting into tears. "Yeah," she agreed as her mother kissed her on the cheek. "I think I'm gonna call it a night, alright? If ya need anything, just holler - loudly. I'm exhausted."

"Good night, sweetheart," Mrs. Connolly said as Tug closed the door behind her.

Alone again, Tug slumped onto the arm of the sofa, rubbing her temples, trying to regain her composure. There were so many feelings wrapped up inside of her, but one stuck out more prominently against the others: being herself again. Was that even possible now? She didn't even know who she was anymore, Claire or Tug? It didn't seem like they could live cohesively.

A part of her no longer felt comfortable in dresses: Tug. Another part of her felt ridiculous with short hair: Claire. Although, thinking on it some more, she didn't actually hate her hair; in fact, she rather liked the simplicity of it, because it didn't require all that much effort to maintain. It was the expectation that girls should have long hair, which ultimately made her uncomfortable with her looks, that she hated. It it weren't for that, she felt like she could live comfortably in both lives. No, that wasn't even the half of it; she was simply making excuses in order to settle her mind.

Groaning, Tug crossed to the sink and splashed some water on her face, attempting to clear her mind. It was all so overwhelming and confusing; she didn't even want to begin piecing it all together. She would just have to find a way to make peace between her two worlds.

With a damp towel in hand, Tug pulled herself through the window and onto the fire escape. Someone was already out there, leaning casually against the railing. She flung the towel at him and he caught it neatly in one hand.

"It's for the blood," she explained as he looked about to ask.

"Thanks," he replied, wiping away the dried up bits on his hands and face.

Tug moved next to him, resting her arms over top of the railing. She looked out over the darkening street below, her thoughts still caught up in the conversation with her mother. After a few minutes, Skittery nudged her from her daze.

"Hey, what's the matter, huh?" he asked, mimicking her stance at the rail. "I mean, why'd I have to meet ya out here? It ain't like I never met yer Ma before."

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and sighed. "It's just, she ain't too pleased with what happened last night at the rally. Though, it seemed to have strengthened her spirits - she says she's feelin' better."

"Ain't that a good thing?" he asked, puzzled by the lack of joy that this news should call for.

"Of course, it's a really good thing, but..." She trailed off as the words which had been running through her head all day refused to be verbalized.

"But what?" he urged, when she failed to finish.

Drawing in a deep breath to regain control of her wavering emotions, Tug replied softly, "She don't want me to be a newsy no more."

The words stung worse than she had expected; saying them out loud gave them truth, something that was lost when simply thinking it. Glancing at Skittery to observe his reaction, she could feel tears prickle behind her eyes.

"Is that what you want?" he asked, looking at her carefully.

"I dunno." She shrugged, not being completely honest. He gave her a knowing look to which she admitted, "No."

"Then it ain't so bad," Skittery assured her, patting her awkwardly on the back.

"What?" Tug replied with a laugh, sitting down on the steps.

"If ya still wanna be a newsy then you'll find a way. I mean, ya gotta do what makes ya happy." He said this like it was simplest solution in the world.

This - coming from the guy notorious for his bitterly glum personality - caught her off completely off guard. Tug blinked with disbelief and suddenly found herself smiling.

"Thanks, Skittery."

"For what?" he asked, apparently unaware that he had said something helpful.

It's funny how such simple things can throw everything back into perspective. Skittery was right, she had to think about what would make her happy; it was time she did something for herself. She didn't want to let go of Tug because it had brought out a side of her that truly did make her happy. It was one adventure after another and she didn't want it to end. Somehow, she knew she would have to find a way to keep Tug a part of her life.

Grinning, Tug gave a shrug. "I dunno - for everything. For tryin' to keep me from gettin' arrested last night. For not tellin' the fellas, even when I said ya could. It can't be easy, keepin' this from the others. You put up with a lot, ya know? Yer a good friend, Skittery."

Skittery smiled and sat down beside her. "I ain't been easy. There've been plenty of times I've almost slipped up." Tug chuckled as he shrugged. "But, I don't mind so much."

They talked a while longer until they found themselves out of things to say. Tug gazed across the street at the lighted windows in the neighboring building, searching for something more to say. As she looked out over the way, she could feel Skittery watching her. Glancing sideways at him, she broke the silence.

"What?"

"What?" he repeated, trying to play dumb, but she was not about to let it go this time.

Tug raised her eyebrows, looking at him skeptically. "Yer starin' at me!"

Skittery stammered, lost for words as she called him out. "Well, I - It's just - Well, seein' ya dressed as a girl and all, I ain't used to it, yet. I mean, I can see why Mush didn't recognize ya."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I mean, you do wear yer hat real low. It hides yer face most of the time. And well, ya look different in a dress - Mush wasn't exactly expectin' you to be out on the street in one. I dunno." Skittery finished up with a shrug.

Tug grinned. "So, ya don't think I gotta worry about him figurin' it out then?"

Skittery shook his head. "No. He seemed pretty convinced by yer story."

Chuckling, Tug patted him on the shoulder. "And it's all thanks to you, my friend."

"What?"

"Well, if you hadn't told 'em you were with a girl the other night, I wouldn't have had such a good cover," she pointed out. "Speakin' of that, why did ya tell 'em you was with a girl that night?"

Skittery's cheeks turned pink as he chuckled. "Well, I was, wasn't I? And ya don't get in that late without a lot of questions being asked. Anyway, I was so tired when they were askin' that I just gave 'em what they wanted to hear. Of course, they been on me about it every since."

"Why? Ain't ya never been around a girl before?"

"Sure I have," he replied quickly, looking a bit offended by her assumption.

"Well then, why did Mush say they thought you made it up?"

Skittery shrugged. "I dunno. We're always givin' each other a hard time about that sorta stuff."

Tug wasn't sure if she believed that, but she let it go. There wasn't any point pressing the matter if he didn't want to talk about it. They carried on a while longer, talking about this and that. Finally, they had to call it a night, because Skittery wanted to get back early to avoid giving the others more ammunition against him.

"Hey, Tug," Skittery said, looking up at her from the level below. "Get some sleep, alright? You'll figure everything out. I'll see ya later."

Tug nodded and watched him until he was out of sight. She sat back down on the step, hoping that the solitude and the cool night air would inspire her, as her mind was still not completely set on what to do.


	20. Newsy

Chapter 20: Newsy

Sprawled across the end of the bed, Tug looked down at the open book in front of her. Her eyes wandered over the tiny inked words, but did not comprehend their meaning. When she felt a sufficient amount of time had passed, she would flip the page to the next jumble of words and resumed the appearance of reading. Her mind had drifted far from inside the walls of the bedroom and down to the streets of Manhattan, where she could only imagine what was going on.

She was so caught up in her daydreams about newspapers and striking that a nudge from her mother startled her. Blinking back to reality, Tug shifted her eyes toward her mother, who was smiling.

"Good book?"

"Uh, yeah," Tug replied as convincingly as possible. It was then that she realized someone was knocking on their front door. She gave her mother a quizzical look; it wasn't often that someone came calling on them.

Still grinning warmly, Mrs. Connolly remarked, "Do ya mind seein' who that is?"

"Oh, right," Tug said absentmindedly, vaulting from the bed and hurrying out of the room.

Pulling the door open just a crack, Tug peeked out into the hallway. It was a bit of a shock to see a familiar face looking back at her. Without opening the door any further, she hissed, "What're ya doin' here?"

"I was just makin' sure yer alright," Skittery replied, peering at the sliver of her face he could see. "Nobody's seen in ya in two days."

"Who is it, Claire?" called her mother from the bedroom.

As though she had been caught doing something she shouldn't, Tug's eyes darted around wildly, calling back, "They had the wrong apartment. They was lookin' for Mrs. Flannerty." Focusing back on the perplexed newsboy in the hallway, Tug whispered, "Meet me on the fire escape, alright?"

When he nodded his agreement, Tug closed the door and fell back against it. Her hands flew up to cover her face briefly before she pelted back into the bedroom.

"I'm gonna get some fresh air. I'll be out on the fire escape, alright?" Tug said as though asking permission, closing her opened book.

She had done a lot of thinking about what Skittery had said, about doing what makes you happy. It was just a simple solution to a whole mess of complicated problems. It was also a very attractive solution, because she could do what made her happy; she could finally break free and live a life she knew would make her happy.

Life, however, was never quite that simple; Tug could never be that selfish. She could never do anything to hurt, or be a source of concern, for her mother, especially when she had a choice in the matter. So if that meant giving up this life as a newsy and returning to her old life, then Tug realized she would have to do just that. It was out of love and respect for her mother, the only person she had in the world which helped her reached her decision.

Yesterday, Tug stayed home, busying herself with whatever household chores had been neglected over the past month. And again today, Tug did the same, but quickly found herself running out of things to keep her mind occupied. She tried reading, but her mind would not absorb the words; instead, it kept slipping away into thoughts of the strike and her newsy friends. She couldn't help but wonder if they had rescued Jack from Refuge, or what they were up to if they hadn't. There were so many likely possibilities that she found it difficult to think of anything else.

Suddenly for the first time in her life, the tiny apartment seemed like confinement, like an inescapable prison, and the more she thought about it, the more she felt unable to breath while inside the walls of her own home. She had been sheltered for far too long and never realized it. Tug wasn't blaming her mother for this, as it had always been her own choice to comply, but now that she had experienced a different side of herself, she couldn't seem to shake it, no matter how hard she tried.

"What're ya doin' here, Skittery?" Tug demanded as she ducked through the window. She had hoped that by not turning up for a few days he would get the hint. It seemed easier for her to just disappear rather than try to explain it.

Skittery shrugged. "I thought ya might like to know what's goin' on."

"No," Tug replied firmly. "I don't wanna know."

"You don't? Why not?" he asked, confused.

"I ain't a newsy anymore," Tug reminded him, avoiding his gaze. "I've made my decision."

"Really?" Skittery said, looking skeptical.

"Yeah," Tug assured him, now looking him in the eye. "I can't go on like this forever. I ain't a boy, I ain't gonna have my Ma worryin' 'bout me, and I ain't a newsy, alright?"

"Well, yer right about one thing - you ain't a boy," Skittery grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. "As for bein' a newsy - ya know it don't matter, boy or girl, yer still one of us. Ya gotta believe that."

Tug narrowed her eyes. "What d'ya mean?"

"Yer definitely a newsy. I mean, you helped with the strike - you didn't have to, ya know; you coulda got another job where you'da been makin' some money for the week or so, but ya didn't because yer a Manhattan newsy and us newsies gotta stick together. Ya can't tell me that ain't the reason."

Biting her lip to keep from gawking at him, Tug was lost for words. She simply stared, wide-eyed.

"Look, you might not care anymore, but we're meetin' by the statue at six o'clock tomorrow morning. Come if ya want," Skittery said, making his offer with a shrug and then started back down the steps.

It was like a punch in the stomach, the way he simply walked away. There was no expectation for her to join them tomorrow, just an invitation. He was absolutely right - again - deep down she was a newsy, and did care about what was happening to them. How could Skittery see right through her like that? This was the reason she couldn't keep it out of her mind for more than two minutes; she had to know what they were planning. She would find a way to deal with her mother. This strike was her cause too.

Chasing Skittery down the stairs, Tug called out, "So, did they get Jack out or what?"


	21. Victory

Chapter 21: Victory

Skittery turned around, looking highly amused. "I thought you didn't wanna know?"

"So I lied," Tug admitted, giving a shrug. "I guess I'm a newsy after all." She gave him a small smile. "You gonna tell me what happened with Jack, or what?"

He nodded. "Yeah, they got Jack out, but then he went back."

"What?" Tug said incredulously and louder than she had intended. She glanced around warily for a second; then added quietly, "Why'd he do a thing like that?"

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Skittery shrugged. "I dunno. He just did."

"So, Jack ain't leadin' the strike no more?" she asked, curious to learn who might have stepped up to fill his shoes.

Taking in a deep breath, Skittery began to lay out the details of the past few days. There was the part about how Jack became a scab, which Tug could hardly believe; how could Jack Kelly, of all people turn scab? The idea of it was infuriating because he had become everything they stood against. Fortunately, it wasn't the conclusion to Skittery's story; Jack eventually saw the light.

"Yeah, so we were all at Tibby's when Davey and his family turned up, followed by Jack," he continued, shaking his head at the memory. "You shoulda been there. Everyone went crazy when they saw him. Half of 'em were lookin' to soak him. It took five of us to keep Spot from killin' Jack right there in the restaurant, and another five to keep Race from helpin' him."

Tug chuckled, imaging how the scene unfolded and all those boys scrambling to keep Spot and Race away from Jack. Their anger was understandable though, as it appeared Jack had betrayed them. A feeling like that is not easily ignored, especially by quick tempered boys. Apparently everything ended well after Jack said his piece, not really offering an explanation, but letting them know where he really stood, with them. The newsies really did stick together, because even the offer of money couldn't lure Jack away from who he really was.

Sarah, David's sister, had discovered the article that Denton had written about the rally. After reading it, Jack and David put a plan into motion, a plan that would rally the support of every working kid in New York City, not just the newsies. Using one of Mr. Pulitzer's abandoned printing presses, Jack and David, with help from Denton, published the Newsies Banner, a newspaper of their own.

Pulling his hand from his pocket, Skittery extracted a crumpled piece of paper and handed it to Tug. "I saved a copy for ya. I figured ya might wanna read it," he said simply. "We spent all day spreadin' it around to every kid in the city."

Smoothing out the creases against her leg, Tug read a couple lines from the first story; it was impressive. It would definitely open up some eyes to the situation and hopefully get other kids to join their cause. Looking from the paper to the boy in front of her, Tug sighed. There was no way around it -- she could stay home tomorrow knowing that something of such magnitude was happening without her. The decision she was about to make would go against the ones she had recently sworn herself to; it didn't matter though, she knew she had to be there with her friends.

"So, ya gonna come tomorrow, or what?" Skittery asked, looking at her thoughtfully.

Feeling completely defeated by the change of heart, Tug gave a small nod. "I'll see what I can do."

---

Early the following morning, Tug sat on the sofa, nervously contemplating her plan of escape. Well, not really escape, but she needed an excuse to leave the house for at least most of the morning. The worst part was lying to her mother, but Tug knew that if she told her the truth, it would not work out in her favor. This was the only way for everything to be happy.

After a final moment of deliberation, Tug knocked on the bedroom door before peeking into the dimly lit room.

"Claire? What's wrong, sweetheart?" yawned her mother, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She blinked a few times to focus; after noticing that Tug was completely dressed, she added, "Are ya goin' somewhere?"

Tug swallowed, calming her nerves, and spewed the lie quickly. "Mrs. Garrett, ya know, in the building across the street? Well, last night she asked if I'd watch the twins for her this mornin' while she's off to work. I woulda told ya about it last night, but it was real late."

"Oh, alright, sweetheart," her mother replied with a dismissive wave, already drifting back to sleep.

Amazed that it went over as well as it did, Tug backed out of the room, gently closing the door behind her. She exhaled in relief; the worst part was over. With that done, Tug quickly ripped off her dress, which concealed her newsies garb underneath. She tucked the dress beneath the sofa cushions in case her mother should emerge from the bedroom and pulled on her cap, easing it low over her eyes. Satisfied that she was ready, Tug hit the streets.

---

It was a fine summer morning; the sun had already begun its slow climb through the sky. In usual New York fashion, the streets were bustling with people on their way to work. Tug walked at a nice steady pace, keeping up with the flow of pedestrians, as she made her way toward the square. It was almost a strange sensation to be out on the streets again, dressed as a boy, since, for the time being, there were no worries attached; no one was staring at her, giving her funny looks, or laughing. In fact, no one even paid the slightest bit of attention to her, which she was thankful for. And though she didn't have too much to worry about, her nerves were still jumping like mad with anticipation of what the day might hold.

Rounding the corner, Tug caught sight of the statue of Horace Greeley, where some people had gathered at its base, but as she got closer she realized that it was just the typical Manhattan crowd. Most of them looked anxious and nervous, pacing aimlessly around the square. A few faces brightened when she joined their ranks.

"Where ya been, Tug?" Mush asked, clapping her on the back.

"Oh, I had some things to take care of at home," she explained vaguely.

"Yer Ma alright?" asked Blink.

"Yeah, she's fine - getting better actually," Tug replied, appreciating the concern.

As she had been absent for three days the boys figured she needed to be brought up to speed with the recent developments. She listened attentively to their explanations, not having the heart to tell them that she was already informed. When they finished, she apologized for not helping with the distribution of the Newsies Banner. After a while, their attention finally turned away from her, continuing the waiting game.

Tug leaned up against one of the railings, wondering if any other kids would bother to show up. Newsies from the other boroughs were expected to join them, but so far there was no sign of them. Whether or not any other kids would come out for the occasion was anyone's guess. Letting her mind sink away from the scene, Tug gave a start when someone spoke in her ear.

"Nice of you to show up."

Scowling, Tug turned and shoved Skittery away from her.

"Shut up," she said with a grin. He returned the smile and walked away.

After an excruciatingly long amount of time passed without anyone else turning up, some of the boys were starting to lose faith. Even Jack was beginning to think that no one else would come. It seemed that they would be alone in their attempt to make a change. The disappointment was slowly hitting everyone.

And then it happened. A quiet rumble that started off in the distance grew louder as the source of the noise approached.

Hundreds of kids marching together, poured into the square from every direction. Kids of every size, shape, color, age, and gender shouted at the tops of their voices, hoisting signs above their heads. The thunderous noise that had erupted from all the voices was going to be difficult to ignore, and it was exaclty what they needed to get Pulitzer's attention.

It didn't take long for Pulitzer to realize that something needed to be done about the mob on the street below. He sent one of his associates to collect Jack, knowing full well that he was behind this uproar. David went along too; if anyone could play to Pulitzer's weaknesses, it was the pair of them. They woudl make him see that one man could never win against so many, even kids.

While Jack and David negotiated with the enemy, the crowd outside waited anxiously for the outcome of their efforts. Wedged between Skittery and Specs, Tug nervously cracked her knuckles. It seemed like they had been inside the World Building for an eternity. Speculation about what was going on inside was circulating, but the Manhattan newsies remained quiet, waiting for the reappearance of their fearless leaders.

The tension escalated to a near breaking point when Jack and David stepped back through the gateway, everyone holding their breath for the news. It wasn't until Jack lifted Les on his shoulders and shouted those three little words, "We beat 'em!" that the crowd exploded into a frenzy of cheers.

The noise was absolutely deafening; everyone was celebrating the victory by hugging the people around them. Tug, very awkwardly, accepted hugs from her friends. She had to be careful with such abrupt physical contact, especially when it was coming from all directions. It seemed like everything had fallen into place, especially after that fink, Snyder was arrested and all the kids from the Refuge had been released, including Crutchy, who had the honors of slamming the wagon door on Snyder's fate.

It seemed that the Manhattan newsies were well on their way to getting their lives back to normal. Soon they would be back buying newspapers at the distribution center, hawking the daily headlines, and spending what little wages they earned. In that moment, they were on top of the world. That was until the unthinkable occurred, bringing everyone's high spirits crashing back down to earth...

Jack was leaving.

The governor, Teddy Roosevelt, had offered him a ride to the train station. It was difficult to believe that after everything they had gone through, he was just going to pick up and leave them. Some of the boys put on smiles, but in truth, no one was happy to see Jack go. Sadly, they watched him ride away in Roosevelt's carriage, which was the signal for everyone to begin dispersing.

It was odd to hear the sound of the circulation bell ring out over the square; it was even odder to walk through the gates with the intent to buy newspapers. The long line of newsboys was ready to pick up where they had left off.

It was fitting, now that Jack was gone, that David was the first to the window, collecting his hundred papes. He had barely pulled them from the counter when something was happening back out on the square.

The same carriage that had taken Jack out of their lives was pulling through the distribution center gates. After shaking hands with the governor, Jack jumped onto the pavement; he was back. For the second time that day a jovial celebration broke out and all the newsies rushed forward to welcome Jack back. Tug grinned as she watched Jack and Sarah publicize their feelings for one another. Now, the world of that the Manhattan newsies knew really would be returning to normal, whatever that meant for them.

---

"Twenty papes," Tug said, slapping her money on the counter. She didn't want to miss out on getting back to business, but she couldn't stay out all morning so she had to get less than her usual amount.

"Hurry up, Tug!" Mush yelled, beckoning to her from beyond the gates. He was practically jumping up and down to get her attention, anxious to begin.

Tug shook her head, smiling as they walked off toward their spot. It didn't take long to get back to old habits of yelling at the people who passed by them. The two of them were in such good moods, joking, laughing, and carrying on, that Tug sold out quicker than she expected. With the extra time, she helped Mush finish his bundle.

It was nearing lunchtime when they finally found someone to buy his last copy. Tug walked with Mush towards Tibby's, intending to head home once they reached the square. With only a block remaining, Blink came running up to them with some news.

"Heya, fellas," he said cheerfully, looking pleased about something. "Jack wants ya to spread the word -- Medda's throwing us a victory party."

"When?" Tug asked.

"Eight o'clock, tonight."

"You gonna come?" Mush asked, knowing that she might have other obligations at home.

Pursing her lips, Tug shrugged. "I'll see what I can do. I've actually gotta get back now. So, I'll see ya tonight if I can."

"Yeah, see ya," Mush replied, waving as he and Blink walked off.

Once they had turned away, Tug slapped a hand to her face in frustrastion, setting off toward home. Things never could be simple, could they?


	22. Deception

Chapter 22: Deception

If one act of deception wasn't enough, Tug was well on her way to a second – only to be followed by countless more. She knew she was taking a risk by going against her mother's orders, but since she now had a reliable excuse for leaving the house, she would use it as long as it held up. Tug had been successful in her attempt to secure every morning to herself; while she was hawking the headlines with the newsies, her mother would be under the impression that she was across the street, babysitting for the Garrett twins.

It was chancy, but Tug used it as a way to get out of the house that evening, so that she could attend the party at Irving Hall. She hated having to lie to her mother twice in one day; it might start to look like the scam it was, but she really had no other choice since sneaking out was not an option – there was no getting in and out of their apartment quietly. So, Tug settled with what she could, and going through another quick wardrobe change, she was back out on the streets.

As she walked the shadowy streets of Manhattan, Tug couldn't escape the feeling of guilt, which was digging at her heart. She justified her actions by reminding herself that she did not want to be cooped up in the apartment all day long; she wanted to escape the monotony of her life and she wanted to have fun. There was another reason, she discovered, which fueled her rebellion; in some ways, it made her feel closer to her father. He would have wanted her to experience news things and have some adventures. However, if he was still alive she would not be in this position. She would be plain, old Claire Evelyn Connolly; a girl who dressed like a proper girl and complied to the orders she was given. Claire would be sitting at home with her mother like an obedient daughter, instead of traipsing halfway across the city to a party at an old vaudeville theater.

Tug angrily slapped her hand against the corner of the building as she passed, trying to clear her head of all these heavy thoughts. She had dwelt on them for long enough; it was time to make peace with her decisions and the chips fall where they may. Shifting her thoughts to something more pleasant, she tried to imagine what this party was going to be like.

---

Irving Hall glowed in fading light of day. The street in front of it was a beehive of activity, and Tug could feel the buzz of energy which radiated from within. Everyone passing in and out of the building had a wide grin stretched across their faces. This was a chance for the kids of New York City to come together and celebrate their victory over the two most powerful men in the city. Many of them would never realize the significance of what they did; all they were concerned with now was having a good time, knowing that they would be able to make a decent living once again.

Word about Medda's party seemed to have spread quickly; people flooded the theater, cluttering every inch of available space within its walls. The sight was so overwhelming that it stopped Tug in her tracks, staring at the mess of people around her; what she had imagined the party to be like was not even remotely close to the reality. The sheer quantity of unfamiliar people made her feel a bit uneasy, and a little self conscious. Taking in a deep breath of confidence and knowing that she would feel better once she found her friends, Tug wormed her way through the crowd, keeping an eye out for a familiar face.

Figuring the Manhattan boys would want to be front and center, or as close to it as possible, Tug made her way towards the stage. As she pushed through the ever-thickening mob of people, the sound of music reached her ears. A band was in full swing, playing a lively tune for those who wished to dance in the pit below. Tug flashed a smile as she caught sight of Itey and Swifty dancing with a pair of red-faced girls.

Moving further along to where the tables had been set up, Tug spotted a few of the Manhattan clan. They were sitting, just as she had suspected, as close to the stage as they could get. Blink, Pie Eater, Specs, and Dutchy greeted her cheerfully as she slid into an abandoned chair.

"Itey and Swifty got some girls to dance, I see," Tug said, nodding in the direction that she had seen them. "So, where –"

"Wait just one lovely second," Dutchy said, holding up a hand to cut her off. "Did you just say what I think ya said?"

Tug couldn't help but laugh at the furious expression etched across Dutchy's face. "What? Itey and Swifty are just dancin' with some girls. They're real pretty too."

"Those bums!" Dutchy exclaimed, slamming his hand onto the table. "They were supposed to be getting us some drinks."

"Ah, just go get one yerself," Specs retorted, giving him a shove. "Maybe you'll meet some pretty lady too."

"Anyway," Tug said, carefully steering the conversation away from the topic of girls. "Where's everyone else?"

Blink took a sip of his drink before shrugging. "Who knows? Well, actually, Race, Mush, and Davey ain't here yet; they had to go get Davey's sister. But – uh – the others are 'round here somewhere. A couple of girls came around not too long ago; they're probably with them somewhere."

The urge to roll her eyes was always an issue when they talked about girls, and this was no exception, but Tug made due with a smile and a nod. Talk continued on that dreadful subject until Mush, Racetrack, David, and Sarah found their way over. Sarah said a brief hello and then vanished into the crowd to find Jack. While the boys stood around talking about various boy-related things, Tug tried to concentrate on the music, but it was becoming increasingly more difficult above their chatter.

She received a bit of a shock when Mush practically ripped her arm from the socket. Rubbing her shoulder, she scowled at him. "What d'ya do that for?"

"Let's go get somethin' to drink," he half asked, half stated. In a sudden change of expression his lips twisted into a sly smile. "Maybe we'll meet some girls, who knows?"

She started to decline, but he pulled her from the chair anyway, insisting that she come with him. Having no say in the matter, Tug followed reluctantly, yanking her cap over her eyes and praying that they didn't get mauled by a bunch of rabid girls. It seemed this kind of event was a breeding ground for hook-ups. She might be pretending to be a boy, but the line has to be drawn somewhere; the last thing she wanted was to be pursued by a girl. Once had been enough for a lifetime, but then again, in the situation she was in the odds were not in her favor.

Predictably, and much to her dismay, it did not take long for a group of girls to flock around them. Tug simply put on a smile and tried to be as polite as possible, all while trying not to laugh at the stupid things these girls were doing to try to win them over – things she prayed she had never done, and noted never to do when flirting with a boy. There was excessive giggling and squealing –enough to want to stab your eardrums with a knitting needle; batting of make-up laden eyelashes, tossing of perfectly polished hair, and gag-worthy praises. Fortunately, most of this was directed at Mush, who was eating up every spoonful they fed him.

Although it had been somewhat entertaining and educational, Tug had to excuse herself. If one more girl had playfully slapped her arm, she knew she would have unleashed and slapped that person across the face – something that Tug knew she couldn't let happen. So, she removed herself from temptation and moseyed on back to the now abandoned table in the corner of the room. Settling herself into the chair, Tug sipped on her drink and let her eyes and thoughts wander.

She thought about that night during the rally; how the theater was just about as crowded, but for a completely different reason. An interesting thought occurred to her as she remembered the feeling she had had that night. The rally had been her first encounter with other girls around these boys and playing the part of a boy. Yes, she had had some interaction at the dumpy little club, but that was before she had really gotten to know the newsies. That night at the rally, it was easy to be jealous of how the boys looked at those girls because she wished she could be looked at that way. Tonight, however, she felt no such feelings of jealousy – not even with the ones who flaunted themselves in front of Mush. She let that though linger a little longer – nope – nothing.

And then it happened.

Her wandering gaze fell onto a distant table – distant, but close enough to make out the two figures sitting there. She recognized one of them.

That was when it hit her, without warning, an unexplainable surge of that feeling she had just been contemplating. Her stomach suddenly sank; her expression feel; and she could feel her face, as well as her heart, burn. Uncontrollable tears began to sting the backs of her eyes, but she couldn't tear them away from what she had discovered.


	23. Feelings

Chapter 23: Feelings

Tug tore her eyes away from the table, blinking rapidly in an attempt to fight back the tears. She couldn't cry. Not here. Not now. Breathing in deeply through her nose, she regained what little composure she could, hoping that maybe, just maybe, she had been mistaken. When she was quite certain her tears had been repressed with no chance of escape, Tug braced herself for another glance. Slowly, her eyes inched back around the auditorium and came to rest on that same secluded table where the only two people seat at it appeared to be on very friendly terms.

Her eyes closed briefly as there was no mistaking that face. She felt that burning sensation rising up around somewhere around her heart again as she watched some pretentious little tart wrap herself around Skittery. He seemed more than pleased by her advances, leaning in toward her and smiling. Before she could witness the result, Tug turned away. Not that it made a difference; her imagination took over.

In typical fashion, Tug tried to rationalize everything that was tumbling around in her mind. She had no base for the pure, unadulterated jealousy that clawed at her heart. There was never anything to suggest that she and Skittery had more than just a close friendship. It was all circumstantial anyway. He knew her secret and therefore he felt obligated to help her because no one else could, like walking her home or trying to keep her out of trouble. They looked out for one another, just like they would for any of the other newsies.

But if Skittery was simply her friend, why then were these feelings bubbling up inside of her?

Because, until tonight she had only seen him smile like that with one other person – her. When they were with the other boys, his smile always seemed so jaded and cynical, but when it was just the two of them, like those nights spent talking on the fire escape, his smile seemed sincere, like he had saved it just for her.

Because, there were so many little things that he had done just for her – things like walking her home at night, staying to talk, keeping her from trouble, and watching her back. It had been Skittery who helped her try to avoid the bulls at the rally, and then who later held her hand when they spent the night in jail. It had been Skittery who knocked at her door after she disappeared for three days, bringing a copy of the Newsies Banner that he had saved. He always seemed to be there when she needed him the most, close by so that she didn't feel so alone. And sometimes when he looked at her, Tug thought she saw more than just a friend looking out.

But, apparently, she had thought wrong.

The evidence of that being the frivolous little tramp he had giggling in his arms. It was quite clear by his actions that he considered Tug nothing more than a friend. If that was all it was going to be, Tug would have to find a way to accept it. She wasn't going to ruin their friendship because she suddenly realized the feelings she had for him were deeper than that of friends. He was still an instrumental part of her life as a newsy. He didn't know it, but he was the link at where her two worlds met. She wouldn't sacrifice that – not for anything.

Under the impression that she had suppressed her emotions with a wall of mental blockades, Tug stole another glance at Skittery to test her reaction. There may as well have been a nuclear explosion inside her head when she caught sight of the entangled couple; the feeling wasn't jealousy anymore. Hurt and anger had weaseled their way to the surface as she felt completely betrayed by him – deep down she knew that there had been something more between them.

If it wasn't enough that she had just uncovered these feelings for Skittery only to find him with another girl, she had to have some salt scattered into her open wounds.

"There ya are!" cried the pleasant voice of Mush as he and Blink plopped down in the empty chairs beside her. "We wondered where ya got to."

Tug twisted her dark expression into a rather weak smile, which she felt didn't exactly meet its mark. She wanted to get up and leave, having had enough of this party, but it seemed her limbs were incapable of movement.

"Hey, ya alright?" Blink asked, noticing her odd expression.

Tug shrugged. "I think I might've drank too much is all."

They both chuckled and Mush leaned in close with a bright grin. "Ya don't mind if some girls join us, do ya?"

Tug shook her head; everything seemed pointless at this point. At least the company might take her mind off Skittery.

"Mush!" Blink snorted, swatting him in the arm and giving a nod towards something. "Check out, Skittery. That must be her."

If they knew about this girl, it meant Skittery hadn't just picked her up tonight. Tug felt her stomach tighten and she groaned inwardly as Mush whipped his head around to get a look at their friend. He broke into a short lived fit of laughter. When he turned back around, his face was scrunched up in confusion.

"Hey," he said slowly, as though coming into a realization. He jerked his thumb Skittery. "I dunno who that is, but that ain't her."

"What? You sure?"

"Blink, I told ya. I've met her, and that girl he's with now," he emphasized, motioning toward Skittery again, "it ain't Claire."

Tug snorted at the unexpected mention of her name and spluttered, choking on the soda she had just taken a sip of, causing it to burn through her nasal passage. As she used her sleeve to wipe the residue from her face, she gaped at both of the boys. Why would Blink assume that Skittery was with Claire? And why was Mush so confused that it wasn't Claire?

"That ain't Claire?" she and Blink said at the same time. Tug merely repeated the words, whereas Blink issued them with surprise.

Mush shook his head vigorously. "Nope; she don't look nothing like that. I told ya, she gots real short hair, like a boy. That definitely ain't the same girl."

"Oh right." Blink remembered, glancing thoughtfully back at Skittery. "Well, he better be careful then. If she ever finds out about this, it ain't gonna be pretty."

Mush nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah even I wouldn't do something like that."

"What are you two talkin' about?" Tug interjected into their puzzling commentary. It was extremely odd to be the topic of conversation, and yet feel like they weren't talking about her at all. It was almost like this Claire that they spoke of was someone else – someone they knew personally. They seemed really concerned about her relationship with their friend. This made it all the more confusing for Tug, because Claire – as they were referring to her – did not exist. The only reason the boys would even link the name Claire with Skittery was because Tug had used it to get out of a sticky situation.

"Oh, right. I forgot ya don't know about Claire," Mush replied with a laugh. "She's this girl that Skittery's been seein'. It's just a surprise he ain't with her is all."

"Why?" she asked, curious to know why they were taking issue with Skittery's personal life. "You guys ain't never seen 'em together, have ya?"

"Well, it's just he's always -," Mush started to say, but he never got the chance to finish, because they were suddenly ambushed by a trio of girls.

Tug slumped down in her chair, hoping that by some chance of a miracle she would become invisible, or possibly transform into a chair. She was learning the hard way that tonight was not a night of miracles. After quick introductions all around, the three girls split themselves amongst, what appeared to be, the three boys.

Apparently chairs were in short supply on her side of the table, because Tug suddenly had company in hers. Settling onto her lap and snaking an arm around Tug's neck was the girl who had been introduced as Gina. Shifting uncomfortably, Tug reached up and instinctively pulled down her cap over her eyes, trying to think of a way out of this situation.

Tug tried everything, short of actually pushing the girl onto the floor, but Gina was not taking the hints – or she simply had no dignity whatsoever, because she kept making passes as Tug. After a few more tiresome minutes of politely turning Gina down, Tug was closing in on an all-out explosion of the rage which had been forming in thin layers over the course of the evening. The result would have ended with a nasty verbal thrashing at this Gina girl, but in that moment, Tug felt the presence of someone looming behind her.

"Get yer hands off our goils, Manhattan!" roared a raspy voice.

Without a moment's hesitation, Tug, Mush, and Blink were on their feet with fist clenched, glaring at the posse of beefy boys that were snarling at them. It was obvious what was about to happen next.

"Ain't nobody allowed to touch our goils, 'cept us," growled the boy who stood at the center of the pack. He glared threateningly at Tug in particular. "Especially my Gina."

"You can have her back!" Tug spat angrily; all the emotion she had been harboring throughout the night was boiling over at this obvious set up. A small part of her was jumping at the chance to soak these lousy bums just to let off some steam. Smirking at the red-faced leader of the Bronx crew, Tug said cheekily, "'Sides, yer girl was all over me."

It was simple but it had the desired effect – the unleashing of a brawl, three against five. It evened out quickly as others began to realize what was happening. Tug was locked in a heavy skirmish with the stocky, red-faced leader. He got in a few good punches here and there, but never got the upper hand. Tug fought him off the best she could, landing her own fair share of blows before people started stepping in to separate the fisticuffs.

Someone grabbed Tug from behind, just as a couple of other boys wrestled the Bronx boy away. Tug struggled against her restraint as she was dragged away from the conflict. Whoever it was that had a hold on her, pushed her roughly into a chair. Catching sight of his face, Tug jumped to her feet.

"Sit down," Skittery insisted, pushing her back into the chair. "Yer bleedin'."

"I don't care. Don't touch me!" Tug snapped, swatting his hand away; the adrenaline from the fight was still pumping through her blood. Standing again, she narrowed her eyes at him. Of all the boys who could have grabbed her, it had to be him. Why? Why couldn't it have been Racetrack or Specs, or any one of the others? No, it had to be Skittery and he had to be looking at her with those concerned-filled eyes. At the moment though, that look was stabbing her through the heart. Tug could feel the tears prickling up behind her eyes as she glared back at him.

"Ya alright?" he asked, resting a hand on her shoulder.

"Leave me alone!" she demanded, pushing him away. Without another word, she walked out of the auditorium and back onto the streets.

Out in the cool night air, Tug trudged along the darkened streets toward home. Entering the apartment, she didn't bother to clean up or change her clothes. She simply threw herself onto the sofa and cried into her blanket. Her entire body ached from the tussle, more so than she would like to admit. Her heart ached for everything that she had witnessed, more so than she ever expected. Physically, emotionally, and mentally, Tug was completely and utterly drained. She let the tears spill from her eyes until sleep took over and allowed her a few hours free of pain.


	24. Mush

Chapter 24: Mush

It was a day like any other, almost as if the strike had never taken place. The pavement between the distribution center gates and the Horace Greeley statue was littered with anxious newsboys, waiting around for their day to begin. The only thing that would prove the strike actually happened were the bold headlines and fine printed stories that would grace the pages of the day's edition. When the circulation bell rang out across the square it was back to business as usual.

The boys flooded onto the ramp, pushing at one another for a better position in line while they waited to buy their newspapers. Tug grabbed her side when someone bumped into her from behind; she winced through the pain that radiated across her ribcage. Not realizing it at the time, but the altercation she had been involved with last night had left her with a couple of bruised ribs. It wasn't until she awoke this morning, stretching her achy limbs that she felt the sharp pains shooting up and down the side of her torso.

"You don't look so good," Racetrack observed, pulling the cigar from between his lips.

"I don't feel so good," Tug admitted, smiling weakly. "How's come she had to be the girl of the biggest newsy in the Bronx, huh?"

"Rotten luck, kid," Racetrack said, slapping her on the back without thinking.

Tug groaned on impact, tenderly clutching her side again. Racetrack had basically summed up her night, rotten luck. Not only had she unearthed feelings for Skittery in worst possible moment, but she had also sustained injuries from the stupidest fight she had ever been in – since it was because of a girl. She hated thinking about the reality of the situation because it was just too strange.

"Them bummers probably ain't feeling so great either," Blink added, trying to think positive as he too had a souvenir from last night's melee, a bruise under his good eye. "Hey, yer up."

Tug pushed the coin under the window, receiving fifty newspapers in return. Tucking them under her arm, she gingerly walked down the steps. She leaned against the wall just outside the gates to peruse the headlines and wait for Mush. Just as she opened to the first page, someone came up beside her and asked,

"Hey, ya alright?"

Concentrating on keeping her expression emotionless, Tug glanced over the top of her newspaper at Skittery. Mixed feelings stirred up inside her; she fought to keep them under control as she caught sight of the apprehension sprawled across his face. There was a sudden desire to slap that look clear off his face and have it out with him right then and there. There was also the desire to run away before having to speak to him at all, because she didn't want to make a scene in front of everyone else. In actuality, neither of these desires were met because she couldn't bring herself to fulfill them, no matter how tempting they were. Instead, she compromised with the two extremes, giving him a small acknowledging nod and turned back to the article as she replied dry,

"I'm fine."

"Ya sure? You seemed upset when ya left last night," he said, the concern evident in his voice.

Tug let her arms fall, dropping the pages against her lap. Looking at him flatly, she pointed out, "Of course I was upset. I'd just been tumbled 'cause some lousy bum thought I took his girl."

"Ya ain't hurt, are ya?" he inquired, giving her the once over and disregarding her abrasiveness.

"I'm fine, alright," she insisted, folding up her newspaper hurriedly as she spotted Mush exiting the gates. "Look, I gotta go. Mush is waitin' for me."

"Yeah, alright," he replied slowly, furrowing his eyebrows, confused by her gruffness. "See ya."

Without replying Tug walked briskly over to Mush. Catching sight of his pleasant smile, she tried to think about the promising day ahead instead of the look on Skittery's face when she walked off.

And so the next two days passed on much like that first. Tug avoided Skittery when she could, but responded with polite brevity if he tried to talk to her. It wasn't easy brushing him aside after all he had done for her, but there were too many feelings strangling her when he was around. Tug could escape the feelings she had for him, but at the same time, she couldn't escape the image of him with that other girl. Especially when that girl kept showing up at Tibby's around lunch time. Tug never stayed long enough to find out why she was there, but the reason was pretty obvious.

"Tug!" Mush said loudly, waving a hand in front of her face. "Snap outta it!"

Blinking back to reality, Tug turned to look at Mush. She was leaning against a lamp post, waiting for him to finished selling his newspapers. Apparently, he was finished.

"I'm all out. Ya ready to grab some food?" he asked, sticking his hands in his pockets and rocking on the balls of his feet.

"Yeah," she agreed, pushing herself from the post and adjusting her cap. There was something that had been eating her since it wriggled its way into her head while lying in bed last night. It just wouldn't leave her mind as she thought more and more on it. If she didn't ask Mush about it now, the opportunity would pass and she might never find out.

"Mush? D'ya remember at Medda's the other night, when you and Blink was talkin' about Skittery and Claire?"

"Sure," he replied, shrugging.

Tug took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. It was a delicate subject in which too much interest could evoke a lot of unwanted questions, but she had to know. The curiosity was killing her. "Well, you was sayin' something 'bout Skittery before them Bronx girls came over – something that he always does, because you and Blink seemed really surprised to see him with that other girl."

"Oh right. Yeah, I remember," Mush replied lightly, giving her a sideways glance. "We didn't expect him to be with that other girls is all, 'cause he'd been talkin' about Claire a lot."

"Really?" Tug said, skeptically.

Mush shrugged, chuckling. "Well, I mean this is Skittery we're talkin' 'bout, so it wasn't a whole lot. But it was enough to think he might actually like her though."

The words hit her so abruptly that she stopped in mid-stride, gaping with astonishment. Her thoughts wandered from her head to her mouth without further consideration. "What did he say about her?"

Turning toward her, Mush's eyebrows flew skyward. "I dunno. He's just mentioned her a few things about her is all. Why're ya so interested anyway?"

Still trying to contain the thought of Skittery talking about her to the other boys, Tug couldn't help the overwhelming feeling as she grasped for an explanation for the sudden questions that had erupted in her mind. She glanced around wildly when nothing came to her; her mouth open and closed a few times without anything sensible coming out of it. And after a few agonizing minutes of deliberation, she finally gave up, because at this point Mush was staring at her with a mildly perplexed gaze.

Without any warning what-so-ever, Tug grabbed a hold of Mush by the wrist and pulled him into the nearest alley.

"What the –," he started to ask as she released him. He glanced up and down the narrow passage in alarm. "Did you see the Delanceys or somethin'?" When she shook her head, he added, "Why we in the alley then?"

Tug took a few deep breaths, biting her lip as she peered at him from under her cap. This was going to harder than she thought it would be. She didn't exactly had to tell Skittery she was a girl; he figured something wasn't quite right when she collided with him during the brawl, and he had approached her. There really was no easy or appropriate way to go about it, but Mush had to know and this seemed like a better time than any.

Drawing in another deep breath, Tug replied quietly, "Mush, there's something ya need to know."


	25. Jealousy

_Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies. I've only created the character of Tug._

* * *

Tug fidgeted nervously, searching for the right words to say. No longer masking her voice, she continued,

"I ain't who ya think I am. Well, I ain't _what_ ya think I am, 'cause I ain't exactly a boy."

Mush's eyebrows rose in a slight confusion as Tug reached up and pulled her cap from head. Running her fingers through her hair, she messed it up to resemble the look she had the day they bumped into one another on the street. Slowly, she lifted her eyes to observe his expression. Steadily, his eyes grew wider as confusion was replaced by a shocked recognition. He gaped for a few seconds, letting the new discovery sink in.

"You?" he gasped in disbelief, blinking rapidly as though he were seeing things. "Yer...yer..."

"A girl," Tug said, finishing his sentence without hesitation. It seemed revelations, such as this, were inclined to leave the recipient at a loss for words.

"No," Mush said quietly, shaking his head, almost to himself.

"No?" Tug replied, dumbfounded by his reaction.

Quickly adjusting his statement, Mush said pointedly, "Well, I mean, yeah, yer a girl, but...yer Claire."

"Oh, right," Tug said quietly, acknowledging the truth in his observation.

She knew Mush would make that connection sooner or later, but she didn't expect it to be the first thing he pointed out. Certainly, he would be more taken aback by the sheer fact that she was really a girl, rather than pointing out that she was the mysterious Claire, who was associated with Skittery.

Mush slumped against the brick wall, running his hand over his hair, still glazed over with shock. He mumbled, "All this time ya been a girl?"

A smile pulled at Tug's lips. "Yes, Mush, all this time I've been a girl." She watched him carefully for a minute or two, then added tentatively. "You ain't mad, are ya?"

Lifting his chin, he looked at her with a crooked half smile, and then shook his head. "Nah, I ain't mad. I just can't believe it. I been sellin' with a girl this whole time and didn't even know it." As he spoke the words, his face fell and slowly tinged pink as he came to a sudden realization. Slapping a hand against his face, he groaned," Oh gawd! You listened to me talk about all them girls, all the time. I told ya so much about 'em."

"Mush, it ain't yer fault. You didn't know," she chuckled, clapping him on the back. "'Sides, if I'd really been insulted, I'da found a new sellin' partner by now." Tug grinned.

He let his hand slide down his face, cheeks still blushing. When he couldn't think of anything better to say, he simply restated the obvious, in an attempt to get use to the idea. "Yer a girl."

Sighing, Tug wished he'd get over that particular phrase. There was something about being in a state of shock that caused an abundance of repetition.

"Look, you and Skittery are the only ones who know about me. I'd like to keep it that way, alright?" Tug asked, looking hopeful. "Ya can't tell the other fellas."

Mush pondered her request for a moment, and then grinned. "Nah, I ain't gonna tell no one."

"Thanks, Mush," Tug replied, issuing a small sigh of relief.

"Hey, I gotta ask. How'd Skitts find out yer a girl?" Mush always thought he knew Tug better than most of the others guys, since they had been selling together before the strike. So, he couldn't help but be slightly put off by the fact that Skittery knew about her situation before he did.

"Oh, well, I didn't intend on anyone finding out. It was an accident really," she explained, sensing a hint of resentment in Mush's question. "You remember the brawl at the distribution center, same day I got that black eye? Well, Skittery and I sorta collided during the scuffle and, well, he sorta figured it out from there."

Mush laughed. "I bet the look on his face was priceless."

"Yeah," Tug said, as the image of that bewildered expression surfaced in her mind. She smiled for a moment and then quickly shook the thought away. Not really wanting to talk about Skittery with Mush, she suggested something else. "You wanna head to Tibby's?"

"Sure," Mush replied, shrugging. "I bet most of the fellas will be gone, or near finished. We's running a little late now."

As they walked toward the restaurant, Mush had plenty more questions to keep her talking. Naturally, he asked her why she had become a newsie. The boys already knew about her mother, after that night they spent in jail, so Tug didn't have any reason to lie. Of course, he was curious about that day he bumped into her as a girl. It was only appropriate for Tug to ask if he ever, even for a split second, thought he might recognize her. She explained everything to him, about how she decided to cover up her blunder that day, which prompted the whole Skittery/Claire situation.

"So you was never Skitts girl?" Mush asked, as they turned onto the street where Tibby's was located.

Tug rolled her eyes, though the truth of it pulled at her heart. "No, we's just friends. I told ya, it was all just a cover to hide the fact that I'm a girl. I don't know where yer gettin' the idea that I was his girlfriend."

"I told ya-" Mush started, but he was cut short as Tug grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop.

Nearing the diner, Tug caught sight of something that caused her to groan inwardly. Just a few steps from the entrance to Tibby's, leaning against the building, smoking a cigarette, was Skittery. Hovering beside him, like a little spaniel sniffing at its owner's ankles, was that girl. She leaned against him, laughing animatedly, twirling a bit of her hair around her finger.

Almost instantly, Tug stopped walking. She couldn't do it. She couldn't walk passed him, not when that girl was around. Letting go of Mush's arm, she said the first thing that came to mind,

"I've just realized I got to be home soon. Sorry, Mush. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

Mush had followed her gaze as it slid back to where Skittery stood. He had been around enough girls to know when something was wrong. "You alright?"

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I just gotta go," Tug said, a little too quickly as she started to walk away.

"Alright," Mush replied, not entirely convinced. "See ya tomorrow."

---

The next morning, Tug met Mush at their usual selling spot. She had been running late, so Mush had a bit of a head start on sales. The headlines weren't too bad, as there were still a few articles mentioning the newsies' strike; naturally, they milked it for all it was worth. The day had been going fairly well, people seemed keen on buying newspapers. When some wizened old man, in a top hat, asked for two newspapers, he gave Tug a dime. She couldn't believe her luck when he told her to keep the change; he didn't want all those pennies banging around his pockets.

So, when lunched rolled around, Tug offered to buy Mush a hot dog from a street vendor. She didn't want to chance another encounter with Skittery again. Unfortunately though, her plan wasn't entirely successful as her lunch break was not Skittery free.

"Hows come you left so quick yesterday?" Mush asked, as he settled himself down on a park bench.

Pulling the wrappings from her food, Tug shrugged. "I told ya, I had some things to do at home."

"Right," Mush managed to mumble, his mouth stuffed with food. He swallowed before continuing. "You sure it didn't have nothing to do with Skitts and Angela?"

"No, it wasn't 'cause of them," Tug grunted insistently, not looking up from the little pieces of bread she was tearing apart. She hated that he was absolutely, one hundred percent, correct about her departure yesterday afternoon.

His eyebrows rose skeptically. "Well, just so's ya know, I'm surprise she's still around. We all though it was a one time thing."

Tug looked up from the mess of food she had sitting on her lap. "Well, apparently it ain't," she said flatly, standing to brush the crumbs from her trousers. "Come on, we still got some papes to sell."

Sighing, though slightly pleased that his assumptions had been correct, Mush knew he had hit a nerve. Scooping up his newspapers, he hurried after her. After some more prodding, he was finally able to make his final conclusion on the matter and announced his findings, with an all knowing grin as they walked home for the evening.

"You like Skitts, don't ya?"

Groaning, Tug rolled her eyes. "What's the difference if I do or not, huh?"

"Ha! I knew ya did," Mush said, crossing his arms over his chest, looking all pleased with himself.

"Oh, just leave it be, Mush," Tug replied, grumpily. He was really living up to his name as far as she was concerned. He really had a knack for the relationship business. "He don't like me."

Mush shook his head. "I think he all he needs is a little push in the right direction."

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Tug turned on him. "What are ya talkin' about?"

"I's just thinkin', maybe if he thought you were seein' someone," Mush said, suggestively.

"No! Don't you even think about it, Mush. I ain't doin' anything like that. Skittery is allowed to see any girl he wants, whether I like it or not," Tug said firmly, as she turned down the alleyway toward her apartment. "Just leave it, alright? I"ll see ya tomorrow."

Mush nodded solemnly, defeated. He only wanted to help her. She was his friend after all. "Yeah, alright."

---

The following morning, Tug leaned against one of the railings that encircled the Horace Greeley statue, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for Mush. He had been running late that morning and was near the end of the line. She could have gone on to without him, but she decided to wait, though quickly regretting that decision.

Bored, she occupied herself with listening in to passing conversations. One in particular stuck out as Racetrack and Blink walked passed.

"It ain't been this bad since Snitch chucked all of Specs' books out the window into that pile of snow," Blink said, shaking his head sadly.

"Yeah, I'm puttin' money on him not livin' through the week," Racetrack replied with a chuckle.

Blink laughed as he said something in return, but they were soon out of earshot so she couldn't hear what he said. Puzzled, Tug couldn't help but think something happened between some of the boys. Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long to find out exactly what it was, because Mush came strolling over a few minutes later, a nice red welt visibly surfacing under one eye.

"Mush!" Tug exclaimed, wide eyed. "What happened to yer face?"

He didn't replied right away, instead his eyes shifted uneasily around the square until they met hers. He gave her a small, guilty half smile before replying,

"I might've let it slip that I was with Claire last night and Skittery might've overheard me."


	26. Rival

"You what?" Tug cried, throwing her hands in the air, nearly upsetting her stack of newspapers. "I thought I told ya to stay out of it, Mush."

He looked at her sheepishly. "I know."

"Well? Let's have it then. What happened?" she asked, narrowing her eyes in his direction.

She may have been irritated by Mush's little stunt, but curiosity lingered as well. She wanted to know exactly how it happened as there obviously had been an altercation involved. Clearing his throat, Mush explained hesitantly,

"I got in real late, like I usually do when I go out for the night. So, this morning, Blink asks me 'bout my night, like he always does. So, I'm telling him 'bout the girl I met, when Skittery walks by. I didn't mean to, honest, Tug, I really didn't, but it sorta just slipped out." Mush glanced briefly at Tug to observe her expression. She was frowning, but listening attentively, so he continued. "I told Blink the girl's name was Claire, which made Skittery turn on me. He started asking me questions about ya, so's I says to him 'Ya know, I thought she looked familiar.' That's when he hit me," he said with a shrug, as though that sort of thing happened all the time.

"And after that?" Tug asked, prodding for more information.

"We had a scrap, but then some of the fellas stepped in, which ended it. Skittery walked out as soon as Jack and Race let him go. He didn't look too happy," Mush informed her, smiling with heavy implications.

Tug fought back the grin that was trying to work its way into sight. What Mush had done was absolutely infuriating, since she hadn't agreed to any of it, but the elation that was rising inside her couldn't be escaped. Based on Skittery's reaction, Mush's little plan appeared to have had the desired effect. There was just one potential little problem she couldn't escape...

"Yeah, he probably hates me now," Tug replied.

Mush shook his head. "Nah, I think I win that honor. I mean, I have met ya before as Claire, and Skitts knows that.

"Yeah, but Skittery doesn't know you really know about me, does he?"

"No, I didn't tell him 'bout that."

"Thing is, he knows I ain't about to blow my cover, and hooking up with you would risk doing that, even if ya thought I's just Claire," Tug explained. "So, he's got to think I pursued you, because in reality, I'da tried to avoid ya at all cost. It's no offense to you, or anything."

Mush waved a hand, dismissing her comment. "None taken. It's all too confusing to think about anyway. Let's just leave it at: I got black eye, 'cause Skittery didn't like to think I's out with his girl. " He smiled again. "Now, can we go sell some papes, huh?"

Tug rolled her eyes, but smiled all the same as they began their day.

---

Sales were lousy that the morning. Tug hadn't even sold half of her newspapers by the time her stomach signaled its desire to be fed. Mush, however, sold slightly more than half of his. As they reconvened, after drifting down opposite ends of the street, Mush felt the need to point out her morning's dismal progress. Tug just shrugged it off, figuring she could sell the rest to the afternoon crowd. It wasn't like she was required to sell a particular amount by a certain time or anything. Was it her fault that the people seemed uninterested in the headlines or perhaps, was it because her headlines lacked the usual creativity that gave her a steady business? Either way, she was in no mood to care about successfully selling every last newspaper; there were other things on her mind, like lunch.

Lunch had the potential to be very eventful, depending on the way things played out. Chances were good that she and Mush would run into Skittery at the diner. Tug couldn't help but wonder what would happen with the three of them in one place at the same time. It made her stomach twist to imagine the various possible scenarios that could develop from that situation. Plenty of them ended badly, but a select few weighed in her favor.

Tug followed Mush into the small restaurant. It wasn't difficult to spot the clutter of newsies scattered about the place. Banging the remainder of his newspapers on the table, Mush slid into a seat next to Blink. Tug was just about to sit across from them, next to Bumlets, when there was some commotion at a nearby table. Glancing in that direction, Tug saw Skittery picking up the chair he must have overturned in his hasty attempt to leave the diner. Once he'd returned it to the proper position, he quickly departed, sending a bitter glare toward their table, dissolving all those scenarios that Tug envisioned in her favor.

"I told ya he wasn't happy," Mush said as soon as the door had closed behind Skittery.

Resisting the urge to kick him under the table, Tug nodded her agreement. "Yeah, you wasn't kiddin'."

Blink laughed as he clapped Mush on the back, looking over the table at Tug. "So's ya heard, huh? 'Bout how he stole Skitts girl?"

Tug nodded, trying to react accordingly. "Yeah, I heard."

"Yeah, Mush, Skittery was talkin' like he was gonna roll ya the next time he saw ya," Bumlets informed Mush. "I's surprised he just walked outta here. I thought for sure, we's gonna have another fight on our hands when you two walked in. "

Blink seemed to agree, but with a fair amount of concern. "It's weird though, ain't it? I mean, I thought he was with Angela now. So, really Mush ain't doin' nothin' wrong, if ya think 'bout it."

"Yeah, but since when is Skittery with any girl?" Mush added with a laugh. "Though, ya got a point, Kid."

Tug complied with their theories by nodding. There were way too many factors in this whole equation. It all needed sorting out, before someone gets hurts. However, a hungry belly comes first. So, Tug listened to the boys attempt to sort out the situation, all the while praying that Mush wouldn't accidentally let her true identity slip. After a while, Blink and Bumlets left, as did most of the others. Once they had finished their food, Mush announced his need to use the bathroom.

Tug had just stepped out onto the street and was shifting their newspapers around, when her shoulder caught against someone passing her. Looking up, she came face to face with her unacquainted rival, Angela. Tug's first instinct was to narrow her eyes at the competition, but quickly controlling the impulse, she wiped her face blank of all expression.

"Sorry," she grunted, almost unwillingly, but it was the polite thing to do.

Angela just waved a dismissive hand in front of her Tug's face as she peered eagerly through the restaurant windows. Scowling, Tug started to walk off, but was quickly flagged down as Angela had not found what she was looking for.

"Hey you!" she called, in a light wispy voice.

Tug knew she was talking to her, but she pretended not to notice. It was more difficult to ignore her as she called out a second time. Slowly, and with a great reluctance, Tug turned as Angela flounced over to her, brushing her flyway hair from her eyes.

"Do ya know a newsie called Skittery?" Angela asked, seeming a bit annoyed.

Tug nodded. It was difficult to be standing so close to this girl, knowing exactly who she was, and having her be none the wiser. This was the first time Tug really saw what she was up against and she couldn't help but make comparisons between herself and this Angela.

As much as Tug hated to admit it, she really was very pretty. Whenever thoughts of Angela crossed her mind, she looked more along the lines of a frumpy, disfigured hag-like creature, which clearly was an incorrect assumption. She had her incredibly bias imagination to thank for that. The fact that Angela was no where near hag-like made Tug fee like she was the frumpy, disfigured one, standing there with her short hair and boys clothes. Tug shifted uneasily as Angela's sharp blue eyes rolled in irritation.

"Well, do ya know where he is?" she demanded, impatiently tapping her foot.

With half a mind to send her on wild goose chase, by telling her some outlandish location such as Coney Island, Tug pushed that thought from her head as she shrugged. "Nope."

Angela sighed in frustration and was about to walk off when Mush appeared. He smiled warmly, joining the conversation.

"Do you know where Skittery is?" she said without skipping a beat.

Mush shook his head and shrugged. "Nope. He left here in a bit of a hurry, seemed kinda upset. Ya might wanna check the Newsboys Lodging House for him. It's on Duane Street."

Her nose crinkled at his suggestion. "I'd rather not. He knows where to find me, if he wants to. Tell him that, will ya?"

"Sure thing," Mush said, a broad grin stretched across his face. As soon as she walked away Mush burst into laughter, throwing his arm over Tug's shoulders and said sarcastically, "Tug, remind to tell Skitts, will ya? Now don't forget! It's important."

Tug grinned, handing him his stack of papers. "What's that? I gotta remind you about what?"

"You know I can't really remember." Mush snapped his fingers. "I almost had it." Shaking his head, he added, "Nope, never mind."

Shoving his newspapers into his arms, Tug laughed. She had been right in thinking that lunch would be eventful.


	27. Revealed

It had become something of a routine over the past couple of days; Mush and Tug would walk in to Tibby's and Skittery would walk out. He hadn't spoken to either of them since the little scuffle with Mush. Occasionally, he would shoot them a look as he walked passed, but other than that he went out of his way to avoid them. It was worse for Mush, since they lived under the same roof, but Skittery simply chose to ignore his existence. In a way, Tug felt bad that things had taken an awkward turn at the Lodging House between the two boys. Even though she never asked Mush to do what he did, it didn't keep her from feeling guilty about the whole ordeal.

It came as a bit of a surprise, on one particular jaunt to Tibby's when Tug and Mush arrived, Skittery did not get up and leave. A flicker of his eyes toward the door was the only movement he made as they entered. It didn't even break the flow of the conversation he had Specs engaged in.

Settling into a chair next to Racetrack, Tug shot a quizzical look at Mush, who merely shrugged as he sat down beside her. Tug watched Skittery out of the corner of her eye, waiting for him to take his leave, but even after she ordered her food, he still hadn't budged. There had to be a reason for this sudden change of events. She couldn't help but think that something was different. Deciding not to dwell on the matter, she joined the conversation at her table as they waited to eat.

Just as Tug was about to dig into her meal, the 'reason' appeared with a flourish through the door. It was Angela. She pranced over to Skittery and greeted him in a fashion that caused Tug's cheeks to singe with jealousy. She did her best to control the impulsive emotion, but the surge couldn't be ignore, especially as their display of affection carried on well passed publicly acceptable. What made matters even worse, was that for a fraction of a second Tug thought she saw Skittery glance her way. Of course, she couldn't be certain, since it happened so quickly, but the idea of it flared her jealousy toward anger as her eyes narrowly darkly.

Jolting back to the reality of her own situation, Tug chucked her uneaten hamburger back on the plate. Suddenly, she wasn't hungry anymore. Slumping back in her chair, she pulled the brim of her hat down over her eyes, funneling her gaze to the untouched pile of food. It took everything in her power to keep herself in that seat, but she knew it would look strange if she suddenly walked out at the arrival of Angela. In an attempt to take her mind off her feelings, she focused back on the table conversation, but that too had taken an undesirable turn at the entrance of Skittery's girl.

"Oh man, is she good lookin', or what?" Blink observed in a hush voice as his eye did a sweep of the room. "Skitts sure can pick 'em."

Racetrack nodded his agreement, and then chuckled. "What's she see in him, I wonder?" The others laughed. "But yer right, she's a pretty lady."

"Ah, she's ain't that pretty," Mush added, shrugging. "I've seen better."

Catching his eye, as he glanced over toward her, Tug gave Mush the tiniest of smiles. She appreciated that comment more than he knew. It calmed her nerves a bit to know that he was aware of what she was going through.

"Hey, Mush, that reminds me," Blink said, looking at his friend curiously. "When we gonna meet Claire, huh? I mean, ya been seein' her the past couple of nights, right? When ya gonna bring her 'round?"

Mush shrugged and pulled a face. "I dunno. When I think she's ready to meet ya guys, but it ain't gonna be easy with Skitts around, ya know."

"Yeah, I still don't get that," Racetrack replied, leaning back in his chair. "I mean, if he's got that other broad, why does he care if yer seein' Claire?"

"If didn't know any better, I'd say he's jealous you took his girl," Blink added, shaking his head like it was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever thought.

"That's what I'm thinkin'." Mush snorted, resting an arm on Tug's shoulder. "It seems to me he's worried I might steal Angela from him too. I mean, he keeps lookin' over here."

Tug felt Mush pointedly put more pressure on her shoulder as he spoke. Tilting her head slightly, so she could get a look at the other table, Tug forced herself to watch Skittery for a moment. Sure enough, a few seconds later, Skittery's eyes flickered toward them. It was lightning fast, same as the other time she caught him, but this time she was certain he had purposefully looked in her direction. As painful as it was to watch Skittery and Angela interact, Tug kept her gaze in that direction until it happened again. She had to be certain it wasn't just a fluke, but eventually his eyes glanced her way for a third time. Mush's observation was correct.

It was suddenly feeling very stuffy and hot inside the restaurant as Tug tried to comprehend the situation at hand. Everything was bumbling about in her mind so she decided fresh air might help her think. Having endured enough for one day, she felt her exit would not raise any suspicion. Tug informed the boys of her need to leave and assured Mush that she would see him tomorrow. Wanting to leave the establishment as quickly as possible, Tug recklessly pushed her chair away from the table, which resulted in a sharp collision with someone who was walking passed.

As the recipient gave a shrill shriek upon impact, Tug turned to find a pained expression twisted across Angela's face. Inwardly, Tug groaned and rolled her eyes, as she pushed the chair under the table. Shaking her head sadly, Tug made toward the exit, not offering up any sort of apology for the accident.

"Excuse me!" Angela cried out in a huff. "Don't ya got something to say?"

Tug thought it was awful gutsy of Angela to pull an attitude with some 'guy' she didn't know. It meant one of two things: she thought was protected by the surrounding boys or she was just plain stupid. Sighing, Tug stopped mid-stride and slowly turned around, looking dully at the other girl. She knew everyone was watching, but that was far from her mind as she sized up Angela with a quirked brow. It was obvious the girl wanted an apology. She had a hand perched on her hip, her eyes narrowed unhappily in Tug's direction. Tug had no desire whatsoever to apologize to her, not after watching her with Skittery. It was just not going to happen. So, Tug blurted out the first thing that popped into her head.

"Yeah, watch where yer goin' next time," she mumbled, and then walked out the door.

Just as the door closed, Tug heard Angela shouting angrily, presumably at Skittery. Drawing in a deep breath of the outside air, she started walking away from the restaurant. She only took about five steps when she heard the jingle that issued when the diner's door opened or closed, and someone shouting her name. Closing her eyes for a moment, she prepared herself for what was coming next. Pivoting slowly, she came face to face with Skittery; she could feel the emotions rising up already. Tug hoped she could hold it all together and not lose control as she set her jaw and gazed at him.

"What's the matter with ya, huh?" Skittery asked, his eyes narrowing angrily at her. "Ya coulda just said you was sorry."

"I'm not apologizin' to _her_, 'cause I ain't sorry," Tug replied indignantly, crossing her arms over her chest to keep them from flailing about. "It ain't my fault she wasn't payin' attention."

"What's gotten into you lately?" he demanded, grabbing her by the shoulders as though she might run off.

Struggling to shake him away, Tug noticed, out of the corner of her eye, some of the boys hurrying from the restaurant. To them, it must have looked like she and Skittery were about to start swinging at one another, and though Tug felt the urge to give him a good smack, she resisted the temptation as she tried to push him away.

"Me? What about you? I mean, you punched Mush in the face. What was that about, huh?" she scoffed as the other boys closed in around them.

"Yeah, well he deserved it, going after Claire like that!" he snapped, trying to shrug off the hands that were trying to pry him off her.

Tug was grabbed around the waist as some of the other boys stepped between them. They finally succeeded in breaking the two of them apart. She could hear Mush's voice very near her ear, trying to calm her down as he pulled her backwards. Trying to wriggle free from his grasp, Tug was not about to let this end.

"Why do you even care?" she shouted, sending a challenging glare across the rift at him. "That ain't none of yer business."

"I just do alright? It ain't right to mess with another guy's girl." As he said this, his face flushed with a noticeable redness, but his eyes still burned as he glowered at her.

He had said another guy's girl, which was the round about way of saying _his_ girl. A week ago, she would have felt differently about that statement, but the circumstances had changed. Hearing it just made Tug angrier. There was no truth in what he just said. They both knew it. So, why did he say it? How could he say something like that now, and with Angela nearby. She could feel her limbs tremble with the frustration and fury that was building up inside her. Everything that had been accumulating over the past few days was just surging through her. Tug laughed darkly as all this crossed her mind.

"It was all a scam, Skittery. 'Sides, if ya really did care, ya wouldn't have gotten with the likes of her," Tug

said loudly, thrusting a pointed finger at Angela, nearly in tears. "Get off me, Mush!"

His arms fell away as she gave him a forceful push. Tug wiped her face on her sleeve, sniffing bitterly. "And for the record, I was never yer girl. I ain't nobody's girl."

Giving him one more pointed scowl, she turned on her heel and stormed away, leaving a fair number of bewildered faces behind.


	28. CTB

_Disclaimer: Newsies does not belong to me. Neither does the TV series, Young Riders, from which the bit at the end was inspired._

* * *

Tug hurried away from the others, not wanting to see the looks on their faces, though she had an idea of what they might be. If the situation with Skittery wasn't infuriating enough, she had to go and add to the mix. She was so caught up in the moment that she didn't even think before those revealing words came tumbling from her mouth. Wiping the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand, Tug tried not to let her imagination go wild. Her thoughts were jumping all over the place, between the outing of her secret to the argument with Skittery.

But, even though her mind was racing, the weight on her heart, somehow, seemed lighter. Perhaps, it was because the argument had extracted the two biggest burdens in her life, currently: the fact that she was pretending to be a boy and the feelings she had for Skittery. Though nothing had been resolved, it was just oddly satisfying to not have those things caged up inside her any longer.

"Tug!"

The sound of her name knocked her back to reality. She wasn't even paying attention to where she was walking, her feet simply carried her along the familiar path toward home. Hearing her name shouted again, she groaned. Why was it that someone always had to come running after her? Couldn't they just leave her alone to deal everything? Resigning to the fact that ignoring him wouldn't do the job, Tug turned around and blankly stared at the approaching figure.

"What?" she asked, waiting for him to catch up. "What is it, Mush?"

"I just wanna make sure yer alright," he said, looking her over carefully.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said with a hint of annoyance. "I just want to be alone, okay?"

"Alright." Mush nodded. As she turned to leave, he added with a grin, "By the way, ya shoulda seen their faces. It was priceless. They're probably still scratching their heads."

Tug looked over her shoulder and gave him a small smile. "Yeah?"

"Yup."

"Hey, Mush," she said, turning back around to face him, a thought just occurring to her. "If they ask, ya might as well tell 'em the truth, alright?"

"Sure, yeah." He shrugged. "Even Skittery?"

Tug shoved her hands in her pockets and shrugged in reply. "I suppose so. If he asks."

Mush stared at her for a minute, a smirk was sliding slowly across his face. Tug quirked a brow.

"Why ya lookin' at me like that?"

"It's what Skittery said." His eyes twinkled. "Ya know, about you being his girl."

"So?"

He laughed and shrugged. "Well, it's just, I told ya so."

Rolling her eyes, Tug gave her head a frustrated shake. "You might've been right, but it still don't mean nothing. It certainly don't change nothing."

"Yeah," he said sadly. "So, I'll see ya tomorrow?"

"I dunno," she replied, indecisively. "Don't wait for me, alright?"

Mush frowned. "Alright. See ya around."

"See ya," she said with a wave, watching him walk away.

---

Pouring in through the small window, the sunlight illuminated the tiny room with an orange glow. Typically, Tug would be up and getting ready for the day, but she couldn't seem to pull herself from the sofa this morning. She tugged the blanket over her head in an attempt to block out the offensive light. Protected under the security of her blanket, Tug slowly drifted back into the uneasy sleep that had made her night a restless one.

Whether asleep for a few minutes or a few hours, Tug nearly jumped out of her skin as someone prodded her awake. Quickly moving to a sitting position, Tug rubbed the sleep from her eyes, her heart thudding rapidly against her chest.

"Ma?" she yelped, gazing blearily at the figure in front of her. "What is it? I told ya, I ain't feeling so good."

Mrs. Connolly wedged herself into the vacant space where Tug's head had been resting. "I know, sweetheart, but I thought you should probably try to eat something." She handed Tug the bowl that was clasped between her hands.

Shifting so she could accept the offering, Tug smiled appreciatively. "Thanks, Ma. You didn't have to, ya know."

Putting an arm around Tug, Mrs. Connolly leaned against her daughter. "It's my turn to take care of you."

Looking up at her mother over the spoon as she brought it to her lips, Tug smiled again. "I'm glad yer feelin' better."

---

Tug woke up late the following morning. Stretching, she looked around the shabby apartment. The place looked a mess, as she had been neglecting the typical household chores. Dishes were piled up in the sink, there was a heap of laundry to be done, and a rancid smell was wafting from the garbage bin. There was no doubt the apartment looked this way the day before, but she had been in no state of mind to take notice, or to even care for that matter.

Standing up, Tug started folding the tangle of blankets that made up her bed and laid them across the back of the sofa. Next, she collected the various articles of clothes that were strewn about and added them into the laundry pile. It was amazing how much it made everything look a little neater. After grabbing a bite to eat, Tug set to work on the dishes, scrubbing every last plate until it gleamed. Once they had dried, she stacked them back into the cupboards.

Moving back around the room, Tug collected the bits and bobs that cluttered up the floor. Passing by the door, Tug stooped to retrieve a piece of paper. She was about to chuck it with the trash when she noticed her name was written on it in sloppy, nearly unreadable printing. Pulling the folded paper apart, she read:

_Got to talk. Meet at the lodge at two o'clock._

_Mush_

It was simple and to the point, but she still read it a few times over. Mush obviously didn't want to cut into his selling time, which explained the note, but something still didn't seem quite right. Naturally, curiosity got the best of her. She glanced toward the clock on the wall. It was already quarter past one. She had to leave now if she wanted to get to the Lodging House by two, but how was she going to explain this to her mother. There was no time for an elaborate explanation so Tug simply knocked on the bedroom door.

"Ma, I'm goin' out for a little bit, alright?" she asked, stepping into the room.

"Feelin' better?" her mother replied lightly.

"Yeah, I thought the fresh air might help," Tug said quickly, giving her mother a hopeful smile.

"Alright, but don't be too long."

Tug ducked from the bedroom. In the fastest wardrobe change on her record, she departed for Duane Street. Those boys might know she was a girl, but it didn't mean she had to dress like one, at least not yet.

Tug watched the street signs as they passed. She had been to the Lodging House a few times, but never coming from her apartment, so finding it proved to be a bit tricky. She breathed a little easier when she saw the sign that read Duane Street, at least she was getting close. It only took a few blocks, fortunately in the right direction, until she was standing at the door of the Newsboys Lodging House, as it read on the posted sign.

Hesitating briefly, Tug walked through the door and into the reception area. She looked around at the empty room, half expecting Kloppman to appear from the depths of building. After about a minute went by, she peered down the hallway that led toward the back and listened for any telltale signs of life. Nothing.

"Hello?" she called out, hoping someone was around.

After waiting another few seconds without an answer, Tug cautiously walked over to the stairs and yelled to the top floor. Still, no one replied. Cautiously, and against her better judgement, Tug took to the stairs, hoping to find someone on the second level. She gazed around the empty bunk room. There wasn't a soul in sight. Puzzled by this discovery, Tug made her way back downstairs, thinking it a better place to wait for Mush.

On the second step up from the bottom, Tug settled herself in to wait. She glanced at the clock, hanging behind the reception desk. It was just about two o'clock. Mush should be turning up any minute now. She gazed around, observing her very plain surroundings. There wasn't really much to take in as the decoration was sparse. After a while, she checked the clock again. It was ten past two. He was late. Sighing, Tug decided to give him a few more minutes, maybe he hadn't sold all his papes. She occupied her mind by trying to guess what it was he wanted to tell her. There were about a million things it could be.

Lost in thought, her heart skipped a beat when the door opened. Rolling her eyes toward the entrance, she expected to see Mush standing in the doorway. Her heart practically stopped as it was not a smiling face she was staring at. Staring back at her, Skittery looked almost as shocked as she felt. When their eyes met, they both shifted their gaze toward something else. Neither of them moved as an awkwardness pressed against the silence.

Tug toyed with the button on her sleeve, waiting for him to brush passed her on the way up the stairs. As the seconds ticked by, she glanced back at him again. He hadn't moved. He had his hands stuffed in his pockets and he was giving the floor a thorough inspection. She looked away again, refusing to break the silence. After a exceedingly long minute or so went by, Tug felt his gaze again. As soon as she looked at him, he asked quietly,

"What're ya doin' here?"

Calmly, she replied, "Waitin' for Mush."

"Oh." His eyes shifted away again. "I should have known."

"Should have known what?" she asked, a little harsher than she intended, her eyebrows furrowing.

"Does he even realize yer Claire yet?"

Tug gaped at him for a minute. Had he completely forgotten what happened the other day? She felt like that was silliest question for him to ask since she had blatantly revealed she was a girl to about half of the boys. There was no doubt in her mind that they all had been made aware by now. So, why was he questioning this? Unless he was taking a stab at Mush.

"Yeah? Of course, he does, because I told him. 'Sides, I think everyone knows about that by now."

"Right," he grunted dully, remembering just how they all found out. Giving her one last doleful look, he turned and started out the door.

"Skittery," Tug called out before she had a chance to stop herself. A frustrated sigh escaped her as he turned back into the room. It was frustrating because she knew this conversation was far from over and if she just let him walk out the door, the opportunity for it may never come again. Pursing her lips, she looked at him, determined to work things out, one way or another. "What is this about, huh?"

His eyes darted around the room, searching for his reply. His lips twitched a few times, like he was going to speak, but the words seemed to fail him. Tug waited, not necessarily patiently, but she waited all the same for an answer. Finally, he took in a deep conclusive breath.

"Yer with Mush," he said simply, pursing his lips together, not daring to say anything more.

Tug blinked a few times as she stared at him. Giving her head a small, disbelieving shake, she replied sharply, "_Yer_ with Angela." Skittery shifted uncomfortably at her accusation as she continued, stressing a detail he seemed to miss during their last conversation. "And by the way, I'm _not_ with Mush."

"What?" he said quietly, quirking a brow.

Sighing, Tug decided it was a better time than any to explain that particular situation. "I never was seein' Mush. I didn't know he was gonna tell people he was seein' me. I found out after you all did. He had this idea that you like me and he thought he was helping you out." She tried to shrugged it off like it was nothing. "I told him he was wrong since yer with Angela."

"You keep sayin' that!"

"What?"

"I'm with Angela."

"Well, it's the truth, ain't it?"

He shrugged. "I ain't really with her. She's just comes around. It don't mean nothing."

"If it don't mean nothing, then why are you still with her?"

"'Cause yer with Mush!"

Based on the horrified expression that followed, it seemed those words were meant to be more of an internal explanation to himself, rather than the voiced confession that had slipped out.

Her heart jumping into her throat, Tug stared at him with wide eyes. Though she always had the inkling that Skittery might have feelings for her, she could never let herself truly be convinced, because she was afraid of finding out her assumptions were wrong, even though she had the support of Mush to back it up. It seemed hat inkling had been correct. Biting her lip, unable to tear her eyes from him, she replied faintly,

"But I ain't with him."

As Skittery stepped forward, her heart fluttered. Silently, she cursed herself for reacting so girlishly. She inhaled deeply to calm her nerves, her heart beating rapidly against her chest. Praying that her face didn't give away her current flustered state, Tug followed him with her eyes. Without saying anything, he sat down next to her on the step and turned in toward her. Tug felt her cheeks flush as their eyes met.

Giving her a timid smile, he replied quietly, "Good, 'cause I been wantin' to do this again." His hand found hers, lacing their fingers together.

Looking down at their intertwined fingers, Tug smiled, finally convinced that things were about to take a dramatic turn for the better. Quite unexpectedly, her breath caught in her throat as he gently kissed her cheek. She glanced sideways at him. His face was quickly turning red, but he grinned, almost apologetically.

"Does that mean something?" she asked, a small smile pulling at her lips. She was still unable to forget that he had another girl after him.

Pulling his hand from hers, he reached up and tipped the cap from her head. Instinctively, Tug's hand up went to smooth out the wild, unruly mess. Smiling, he ran his fingers down her short locks, his gleaming eyes not leaving hers.

"It means everything."

Without a second thought, Tug leaned in tentatively, her lips finding his, but only for a second. It was a perfect second, none-the-less. She could feel every inch of her body tingle with elation as he smiled at her, pulling her close once more.

How long they sat there, they couldn't be sure, but a short while later, they were interrupted by someone deliberately clearing their throat in the most obnoxious way possible. Startled, they jumped apart, finding a number of amused faces peering at them from just inside the door.

"Ya know, if we didn't already know ya was a girl, this would look really strange," Racetrack quipped, indicating toward Tug. Everyone chuckled.

As embarrassing as the situation was, Tug couldn't help but smile, as she slapped a hand against her face. She looked out between her fingers. Mush was standing next to Racetrack, a broad smile stretched across his face, looking mighty proud of himself. Tug knew she would be hearing 'I told ya so' from him in the near future.

"So, fellas," Skittery said with an uncharacteristically wide grin on his face. He guided Tug from the steps, wrapping an arm around her and giving her a little squeeze. "I think it's about time you all properly meet Claire Connolly."

Naturally, a few of the boys had to hurry forward to shake her hand like they had never met before. Tug laughed, playing along. Blink even got right up into her face, looking at her closely with his good eye. He shook his head, perplexed.

"Who would've thought beneath all that you was a girl?"

Tug smirked, shrugging. "Nobody, which is why I was able to be a newsie for so long."

"What ya mean, _was_?" Mush demanded. "Yer still a newsie."

She glanced around. "Really? Even though I'm a girl?"

"Yeah, why not? There ain't no law sayin' girls can't be newsies," Blink replied with a shrug.

"Yeah, and anyone who says any different is gonna have to answer to me," Skittery said loudly, giving the other boys a warning look.

"And me," added Mush.

"Yeah, me too," said Racetrack, as some of the others also nodded.

"Me too, Tug!" piped up Tumbler, which made everyone laugh.

Wrapping her arms tightly around Skittery, Tug beamed at the others. "Thanks fellas. I think this is the beginning of a fine life, carryin' the banner"

_The End_

* * *

_ A/N: Just so you all know, I was geeking out the entire time I wrote this chapter. :)_

_**Your final thoughts on the chapter and overall story would be very much appreciated! Thanks!**_

_This is not the end of Tug. You can read more about her and Skittery in a collection of one shots entitled, Rockin' the Paradise and also in a Christmas one shot entitled, The Newsies' Family Christmas._

_THANK YOU to everyone who has taken the time to read this story! I'm glad you were able to stick it all the way through. _

_BIG THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed, alerted, and favorited this story. It means a lot to me, especially as a writer. You all have boosted my confidence a great deal._

_HUGE THANK YOU to AdrenalineRush16 and CES5410 who let me bounce some ideas around and gave me some great help along the way! Thanks ladies, you rock!_

_*Laelyn_


End file.
